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stime Series. Issued monthly. By subscription. $3 per annum. No. 53. Jan.,’91. Entered at Chicago P.o. as ad-class matter 



A NOVEL 


LOUISE BATTLES-COOPER 


Chicago: LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 












BEHIND A MASK 











BEHIND A MASK 


A NOVEL 


J 

By LOUISE BATTLES-COOPIR 


Copyright , iSgi, by Laird de Let 
(AH Rights Reserved) 



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BEHIND A MASK 


CHAPTER I 

A BITTER TRIAL 

Two young men sat on the veranda of a seaside 
hotel, and with chairs tipped comfortably back 
against the house, were chatting and smoking as 
they lazily viewed the delightful scene which lay 
beneath them. 

The day was warm and sultry and the air 
heavily laden with the fragrance of the flowers. 
The ocean presented a glass-like surface, with 
never a break of foam to relieve its heaving, 
breathing motion. 

Even the breakers appeared to have lost their 
ability to make a stir, for they rolled monoton¬ 
ously, languidly upon the beach and broke with 
a little dull thud, leaving just a ripple of white 
on the yellow sand, as if in a gentle caress of 
their well worn friend. The birds twittered qui¬ 
etly in the trees, and the bumbles, yellow-jackets 
and blue-bottles held high carnival as they went 
singing and buzzing from bush to bush and flower 
to flower. 

Suddenly the rush of horses* hoofs, the sound 



8 


e ,BEHIND *A MASK 


of rapidly revolving wheels, broke rudely in upon 
the quiet atmosphere. 

“Jerusalem!" ejaculated the shorter of the 
young men, jumping excitedly to his feet, “a 
runaway, with a woman, too; let us—” 

“Sit down, George, my dear,” his companion 
interrupted coolly, “there is not the slightest oc¬ 
casion for any alarm; it is only Mrs. Brown." 

“Only Mrs. Brown?" echoed the other, as he 
sank slowly back into his seat. “Who is Mrs. 
Brown?" 

"Watch that bend; she will round it in a sec¬ 
ond. Ah, here she is; see for yourself." 

“Well, whoever she is, she handles the ribbons 
better than any woman I ever saw before," he 
murmured, as a pair of perfectly matched greys 
swung rapidly up the road and came to a sudden 
standstill amid a cloud of dust. A groom sprang 
rapidly forward and caught their bits, while a 
clear, pleasant ringing voice from behind the 
mist exclaimed: 

“All right, Bob; rub them down well, and have 
Caesar saddled at half-past six." 

As the man drove slowly away, she turned for 
an instant on the steps to watch the moving ani¬ 
mals, and during that moment George Devine 
took the opportunity of “taking her all in," as 
he expressed it. 

Small, very small, exquisite figure; tiny feet 


*A FITTER TRIBAL 


9 


and hands; a huge mass of tawny, reddish hair 
crowned an ugly face—dreadfully ugly, with 
the skin freckled and sun-burned, until it looked 
almost like a piece of tanned leather; decent 
nose, full, thick, sensual lips, and as beautiful 
pair of eyes as ever man looked into, blue grey., 
shaded with black lashes that rested on her 
cheeks before they turned up in a delightful 
curve, which gave a peculiar, altogether fascin¬ 
ating appearance to their expression. In truth, 
her most devoted admirer could not modify her 
looks into anything but “exceedingly plain, you 
know. ” 

She paused again when she reached the porch 
and nodding carelessly, exclaimed with a smile 
which lit up her face with a most pleasant ex¬ 
pression, and which showed a set of strong, 
white, even teeth: 

"Hello, Harwood, your friend has arrived, I 
see." 

“Yes, Mrs. Brown,” raising himself from his 
seat, “allow me to present Mr. Devine.” 

“Glad to meet you, sir,” as she extended a 
frank hand to the newcomer; “I hope Oceanside 
will suit your fancy. You will find it a pleasant 
place in which to spend a holiday.” 

“I have not a doubt of it,” he returned in a 
genial tone. “I am already fascinated by this 
view.' 


10 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


"Bring Mr. Devine up to my room and have a 
punch, Harwood,” she said after a few more 
words. "It is dreadfully hot and a cool drink 
will be refreshing." 

"Who is Mrs. Brown?" asked Devine again, as 
soon as she was beyond earshot. 

"Mrs. Brown," replied his friend laconically. 

"Where does she come from?" 

"I never inquired." 

"A widow?" 

"So I presume." 

"Ever heard anything about the defunct 
Brown?" 

"Perhaps he is not defunct." 

"I thought you said she was a widow." 

"Yes, but maybe she came from Chicago;" 
Harwood gave a short laugh. 

"Really you are most unsatisfactory," his friend 
said smiling. 

"And you are a most persistent catechiser. Are 
you fascinated already?" 

"Why not; isn't she nice?” 

"Oh, yes; she is real good sort, jolly, pleasant 
—hail-fellow well met, yet still not the kind 
one would wish to associate with one’s sisters, 
you know." 

"Are you getting personal? What ails you? 
I haven’t spoken a.dozen words to the woman yet, 
and you are already hinting at me about bringing 



e/f ‘BITTER TRIAL 


ii 


her into relations with my family. Suppose you 
allow me a little more time before cautioning 
me about my sister’s associates.” 

"It is only a word of warning, old fellow,” put 
in the other gently. "I know what an impres¬ 
sionable fellow you are, you know, and your 
pretty face and well-filled purse is a most tempt¬ 
ing bait for a designing woman. I have always 
expected to see you wind up with some sort of 
misalliance. But there, I will not say any more, 
and by Jove, you couldn’t any way. She is too 
deucedly ugly.” 

"Well, she is unmercifully plain, ” admitted 
the other slowly; "just like my terrier, she is 
so ugly she is almost handsome. But, come, 
don’t you know anything about her anyway?” 

"Nothing. Still, I would advise you to be 
careful, for I confess she is a most fascinating 
companion, and I fear there are many dark 
spots on her career of which I would not care to 
learn. Treat her as I do, 'bonne comrade ,’ and 
keep your fancies where they belong. Come,” he 
said, abruptly rising and pushing back his chair, 
♦ "let us go and have a punch. She beats any 
barkeeper I ever struck in mixing drinks.” 

"Does she? Well, I am ready—in fact, to tell 
the truth, you have aroused my curiosity. I 
want to see more of her. I will give you my 
opinion at length later on.” 


12 


f BEHIND *A MASK 


As they moved slowly across to the hall a dark 
face withdrew from a window just above them 
and a small white fist shook itself menacingly 
at Harwood’s unconscious back. 

In a comfortable, upset sort of room, beauti¬ 
fully furnished, with the blinds lowered and the 
air almost too full of the odor of sweet smell¬ 
ing flowers which filled innumerable vases and 
glasses—sat Mrs. Brown, clad in a loose white 
wrapper, her hair hanging in two long braids 
which rested on the floor. She lay stretched 
negligently out on a long low chair, a book in 
her lap and a cigarette between her lips. 

"Come in,” she called in answer to the knock 
on the door. "Ah; find yourselves seats, and 
take a cigarette—plenty on the table there." 

The two stalwart fellows seemed to fill the 
room when they came in. 

"Hot today, isn’t it?” 

"Dreadfully so,” smiled Harwood. "Get your 
weed, George, and sit down," he exclaimed sud¬ 
denly. "He is the worst fellow for standing on 
his feet, Mrs. Brown, I ever saw; never knows 
when he needs a rest." 

"Pray excuse me," Devine said hesitatingly, 
his face slightly reddened at the view he had of 
the dainty ankles, the white arms bared to the 
elbow, as she raised her cigarette; the whole 
ensemble of negligent position, careless attitude 


A 'BITTER TRIAL 


13 


coming on him unexpectedly had confused his 
mind for a moment, but quickly recovering him¬ 
self, he cried half-laughingly. “Coming in from 
the bright glare and put suddenly into a dark¬ 
ened room with such a pretty picture as you 
make, Mrs. Brown, unfolded to me, I suppose I 
lost my wits a little. Forgive me.” 

"Forgiven immediate^ after your pretty little 
speech; but neither compliments nor flattery are 
allowed in my domicile, Mr. Devine; so a truce 
must be cried immediately to such things." 

“Granted, but you must not forbid my speaking 
the truth, as in this instance, for you do make a 
picture." 

“Yes, an uncommonly ugly one," she answered 
laughing. "I am well aware of the slight claim 
I have on feminine beauty. But come,” rising 
slowly, “we will have our punch. Here, Har¬ 
wood, you roll these lemons and you get me a 
small bottle of champagne, and the sherry from 
the side board there, Mr. Devine. I believe I 
have everything else here. Thank you. Now 
stand and watch me. Move one side a little, I 
need room,” she smiled as with wonderful stead¬ 
iness she poured the liquor from one glass to an¬ 
other at arm’s length. 

“That makes my mouth water," exclaimed Har¬ 
wood. as the foam rose to the surface. 

"Does it? Well, try it then; and you, too," 


14 


‘BEHIND MASK 


with an upward glance at Devine who stood look¬ 
ing down at her with an amused smile on his 
cheery face. "Here’s how.” 

"Delicious!” cried Devine enthusiastically; 
“but then I expected as much.” 

"Why?” she asked quickly. 

"Well, Harwood is a connoisseur and he gave 
me his word. Where did you learn?” 

"Oh, when I was a lass, I served a term, as 
first-class mixer in a liquor firm,” she hummed. 
"Sit down,” she added, "and sip it quietly. It 
makes it taste better.” 

“Yes, sweetness long drawn out always suits 
me best,” said Harwood. 

“That is because you are so notoriously lazy," 
said his friend. 

"You came this morning, did you not?” she 
inquired, as they sat themselves on either side 
of her. 

"Yes.” 

"Where is your home?” 

"I live in Woltown, Massachusetts.” 

“Is it a pretty place?" 

"Well, yes, as manufacturing cities go, it is.” 

“Are you going to spend the summer here?” 

"Yes, provided Harwood will put up with me. 
"I have always tried to get him away from here, 
but could never succeed. He thinks Oceanside 


zA ‘BITTER TRIAL 


*5 


the only place in America during the summer." 

"And did you never come before?” 

“No, I do not like quiet places generally. I 
prefer life and bustle. But Harwood says Ocean- 
side is to be a most fashionable resort this year, 
so I accepted his invitation to spend the season 
with him. Have you been here much?” 

“Yes, a great deal, especially a number of 
years ago. I am very fond of the place. The 
roads are good, trout and perch are plentiful, and 
partridges available bye and bye. Then the sail¬ 
ing and deep water fishing gives it a pleasant 
variety. Queer sports for a woman to engage 
in, you will say, but I am out of the ordinary run, 
I am afraid. I detest women as a rule." 

“Do you?” said Devine naively; “I don’t.” 

“Oh, no,” interposed his friend laughing. 
“We all know that. You must confess to a par¬ 
ticularly strong attraction to the fair sex." 

“Oh,‘every one to his own taste,”' she replied, 
“but my life has been spent with little or no femi¬ 
nine influence surrounding it; being brought up 
by an indulgent father, I early became accustomed 
to the society of men and addicted to masculine 
sports. The few women on whom I ever staked 
my affection have fallen so far short of honor, at 
least according to the male code, that I have 
gradually become contented with my dogs, horses 
and books; and if ever a woman does cross my 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


16 

path, I get out of the way as quickly as possi¬ 
ble.” 

“What a queer story!” exclaimed Devine. "I 
can hardly imagine a woman so situated. My 
sisters would perish if they did not have their 
girlish confidantes." 

"Yes, I know most women depend on each 
other. ” 

"Has not such a life placed you often in false 
positions?" 

"Indeed it has. I began by being erroneously 
judged, and so I have continued. Mrs. Grundy’s 
gossip has little or no effect on me now. When 
I hear remarks made concerning my antecedents 
and career—well," shrugging her shoulders, "I 
only say: 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.' Oh," 
dropping her cigarette. "Thank you, Harwood. 
Yes," she murmured in a low tone, as she bent 
to receive it from him, "it is true about eaves¬ 
droppers, isn’t it?" 

"Really, Mrs. Brown," he commenced, follow¬ 
ing her rapid glance to the window and under¬ 
standing her insinuation, "you must have—" 

"I’m going to ride bye and bye," abruptly in¬ 
terrupting him and turning to Devine, "would 
you two like to accompany me?” 

"Of all things,” he returned, "if horses are 
available." 

"The idea of saying such a thing in the coun- 


A BITTER TRIAL 


n 


try," said Harwood. "Of course, there are plenty 
of horses." 

"Yes, plugs, perhaps, but I doubt if you can 
find any to keep pace with Mrs. Brown’s ani¬ 
mals, if her greys I saw a while ago are a sam¬ 
ple of what she travels with." 

"Oh, I promise not to run away from you," 
she laughed. "If you cannot keep up with me, 
I can stay behind with you, you know." 

"Under such conditions, I can speak for my¬ 
self, John, and if Harold can scare me up a nag 
of any kind, I will follow you as closely as he 
will permit me." 

"Then it is agreed," added his friend, "and we 
shall enjoy a pleasant ride, I have no doubt." 

"Will you pardon me if I turn you out now? I 
make a habit of indulging in an afternoon 
siesta , for which I feel much better on these 
warm days, and which I miss greatly if I neg¬ 
lect. Therefore if you do not wish to have a 
most lackadaisical partner in our excursion, I 
must necessarily ask you to leave." 

"Very well," said Harold, with a smile. ."We 
will consider ourselves dismissed." 

"Only until supper time, ” Devine interrupted. 
"You will dine with us, will you not?" 

"Certainly I shall, and with pleasure. I hope 
you will pardon my lack of ceremony?" 

Behind A Mask 2 


i8 


‘BEHIND c 4 MASK 


“Oh, of course. I believe thoroughly in the old 
proverb about ‘each for himself/ etc. Come, 
Harold, we will see you later on, and many, 
many thanks for the delicious punch—may I 

soon have another?” 

* * * * * * 

Half-past six; Ihe sun is still shining bright¬ 
ly down onto his old friend, the ocean, but the 
warmth of his rays has departed, and a gentle 
breeze, which has taken the place of the extreme 
heat of the morning, is stirring the waves into 
little ripples which seem to be tumbling over 
each other in a merry spirit of playfulness, as 
if they, too, were glad to be free from the hot 
breath, and to be once more fanned by the winds 
they love so well, and which give them the pow¬ 
er to indulge in gentle sports or lash themselves 
into a fury of fiendish delight, as they thunder 
up and down the coast, or off on the vast bosom 
of the restless sea. 

Skirting the shore ran a winding road, shaded 
by trees on the one side, and the overhanging 
cliffs on the other. Three horses with their riders 
came cantering slowly from behind the bend, the 
latter being engaged in a laughing discussion. 
Some women need but to be put on the back of 
a horse when their whole aspect undergoes a re¬ 
markable change. The erect carriage of the 
body, the poise of the head, and the entire 


A BITTER T%IAL 


*9 


change of expression of both face and figure 
cause them to appear as if here, if in no other 
condition, they were born to command, and so 
with Mrs. Brown. Her Caesar was a most superb 
animal—jet black with a coat that shone like 
satin; arched neck and protruding nostrils, a 
fiery, restless eye, which showed his control was 
only due to the will of one stronger than his 
own. She sat easily in her seat, the small 
frame drawn up so straight that she appeared a 
tall woman. Her habit fitted her dainty figure to 
a nicety and betrayed each line of beauty from 
the swelling bust to the rounded hips. Her 
face, too, was flushed, and the red in her cheeks 
and the light in her glorious eyes—her sole 
claim to beauty—so changed her appearance that 
one could scarcely restrain the exclamation of 
amazement: 

“Is this possible? Can this be the same 
woman?” 

Devine’s fair face openly expressed his admi¬ 
ration, which he took no pains to conceal. Even 
Harwood could not suppress a thrill of delight 
in beholding a dainty creature like this holding 
such a restless, fiery animal under such perfect 
command. 

“I tell you, Mr. Devine, Harwood must have 
scoured all the farms in the country to obtain 


20 


‘BEHIND MASK 


you such a mount. I assure you, I have never 
seen a better one about here.” 

“Oh, you need not poke any fun at the poor 
old beast,” he answered laughing. “We have 
not tested his going capacities yet, you know. 
He may be able to outrun your Caesar.” 

“There is a long stretch of country road be¬ 
yond here; we may try conclusions then. How 
near do you think your Pet can keep to us, Har¬ 
wood?" 

“Pet is an old and valued friend, Mrs. Brown, 
and has been right faithful to his master; but 
still, I fear he is no match for you. However, 
we will see.” 

“Then let us move along a little quicker. I 
can bear nothing slow moving or going. I fear I 
am a very restless creature. It is so hard for 
me to keep still. Come,” and with a gentle 
jerk on her rein, she broke into a canter, fol¬ 
lowed closely by her escort. 

They had ridden some miles further on, the 
rapid pace having necessarily obliged the conver¬ 
sation to be of a desultory character, when sud¬ 
denly she drew rein, saying: 

“Our race track is only a little way ahead. 
Let us give our steeds an opportunity to get a 
breath, especially yours,” turning mischievously 
towards Devine. 

They had turned from the ocean, and were in 


«/* BITTER T%IAL 21 

sight of a long, even stretch of country over 
which they might safely venture to run their 
horses for a number of miles. 

Laughingly they drew up in line, and quarreled 
amicably over the signal to start. 

“I do declare, I feel like a child,” she cried 
finally in a girlish manner. “Such a crazy thing 
for us to do. But then it’s a pleasing excitement, 
and Caesar does so dearly love a good run. At 
the word, Mr. Harwood.” 

“Very well,” he said; “when I say 'three/ you 
are to away. One, two, three, go!” and off they 
flew. For some time they kept almost abreast, 
Devine’s old animal getting over the ground in 
an amazing fashion, which called forth bursts 
of laughter. Suddenly bending, she spoke in a 
quick, sharp tone to her horse, and turning in 
her seat beckoned them with a laughing gesture 
a farewell, as Caesar bounded forward and soon 
left them both some distance behind. His pace 
was terrific. She seemed to the two men to be 
fairly flying over the earth like a bird. 

“Such a seat,” muttered Harwood to himself; 
“the woman is wonderful and absolutely beauti¬ 
ful when on the back of a horse. By Jove—what 
is this? Is she down? Yes; and there goes her 
Caesar. I suppose that stranger caused the 
trouble. Where did he come from? He is pick¬ 
ing her up. I hope she is not hurt. George, 


22 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


hurry," and dashing his spurs into his horse's 
sides, he urged him rapidly forward. 

“Are you hurt, Mrs. Brown?” he inquired anx¬ 
iously, as he jumped from his saddle and ap¬ 
proached her. 

She had risen to her feet and stood looking at 
the stranger in a dazed, curious fashion. 

“I think not,” the gentleman replied; "only 
stunned. My horse frightened her coming out 
of this wood so suddenly, and Caesar shied so 
abruptly that she lost her seat. He has run 
away. ” 

“I will go and catch him,” said Harwood, and 
started off. 

“Cad," said the stranger abruptly, “who are 
these men, and who is Mrs. Brown?” 

For an instant she hesitated, then pulling 
herself together, while a hard look settled over 
her features, she said in a quiet voice: 

“Those are two gentlemen from the hotel." 

“Who is Mrs. Brown?” he repeated. 

“Why, Mrs. Brown; who else could she be?" 

“Oh, Mrs. Brown," cried Devine, as he reached 
her side, “I am so sorry. You are not injured, 
are you?” 

“Oh, no, not at all. I felt stunned for a mo¬ 
ment, but am quite well now. Poor Mr. Har¬ 
wood has gone for Caesar, but he will return 
himself. Ah, here they come." 


A WITTER TRIAL 23 

Puckering up her lips, she gave a low, peculiar 
whistle which instantly brought the horse to her 
side. 

“He came himself/’ said Harwood. 'I could 
not catch him.” 

“I knew he would”’ she returned. “Poor fel¬ 
low; were you frightened?” stroking his neck with 
a gentle hand. 

“Your whip,” said the stranger suddenly, ex¬ 
tending it to her; “do you feel well enough to 
mount?” 

“Perfectly,” she replied gravely. “Thank 
you,” as she received her whip. 

“Allow me,” said Devine, stepping forward to 
assist her. 

“It is not necessary, thank you,” she answered. 

“Down, Caesar,” lightly flicking his knees with 
her whip; and the noble beast immediately 
bent his forelegs, while she slipped gracefully 
into her saddle. 

“Come, gentlemen, we had better return,” and 
without a word or look she turned from the 
stranger and trotted slowly back towards the 
hotel. 

“Curious,” thought Harwood, “how queer in her 
to act so. Good day, sir,” and lifting his hat 
to the stranger, he overtook Devine, who had 
started after her. 


24 


BEH/&CD *A cMzASK. 


Won’t you feel badly?” he asked, when he 
had reached her side. “You had an awful fall.” 

“Yes,” she replied, in a tired way. "It has 
unsettled me I feel all shaken up. But probably 
a night’s rest will set me up again." 

"Rather a slow ride, after all,” she said when 
they reached the hotel. "I am very sorry to have 
spoiled your pleasure. I think I will retire now. 
Better luck next time,” and forcing a smile, she 
turned from the horse and walked slowly toward 
the house. 

"Nerve!” ejaculated Devine, looking after her, 
"that woman has more nerve than any man I 
ever saw. Fancy taking such a tumble without 
a murmur. She has pluck enough for ten men.” 

"So she has,” answered his friend slowly. 

"I don’t know of another woman that would 
have taken a throw like that without making a 
big fuss over it. But come, let us go up and 
get into our slippers and have a smoke. 

The room was pleasantly lit by a handsome 
shaded lamp, and Mrs. Brown, in a loose neg¬ 
ligee, lay in her long low chair before the open 
window, idly looking off into the moonlit 
waters. 

"Cad,” said a deep, low, melodious tone. 

"Well,” she answered, turning her head slowly 
toward the stranger of the afternoon. 

He had entered quietly and without knocking, 


*A HITTER TRML 


25 


and now stood in the center of the room, tall 
and imposing. The light fell on a face which 
was very handsome, dark thick hair, deep blue 
eyes and swarthy complexion; but with a line 
of determination about the mouth that in a great 
measure obliterated the beauty of the rest of 
the face. 

“Cad,” he repeated, stepping closer to her; 
and as her eyes met his the red color suffused 
his cheeks and his eyes became filled with an 
expression so appealing that her own drooped. 

“Cad, come to me,” he cried suddenly, sink¬ 
ing down beside her couch. “I cannot live 
without you. Come," and seizing her hand, he 
covered it with passionate kisses. 

“Why have you followed me?” she spoke 
slowly. “I am contented now” 

“Follow you,” he cried, “I have but just found 
you. I have spent all of my time in my search 
for you, but you so successfully covered your 
tracks, that had I not stumbled over you acci¬ 
dentally this afternoon, I should not be with 
you now. Will you not—can you not, love me 
again?” 

“Do you really and honestly mean what you 
say?" raising herself in her seat while her breath 
began to come in little pants. 

“Yes, I honestly mean what I tell you. Look 
at me; can you doubt it?” 


26 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


Raising her eyes she looked long and deeply 
into his, where burned a flame so bright and a 
meaning so clear that her breath came quickly, 
and with her gaze still fixed on his she mur¬ 
mured softly: 

“Yes, I believe you. Oh, Joe!" she cried 
wildly; and round his neck went the two arms 
and down she pulled his face closer until it 
rested on her bosom. Then she covered it with 
kisses—passionate, burning kisses, in which there 
were whole worlds of love. 

“At last! at last!" he whispered, holding her 
close to him; and then their lips met, and her 
head was pillowed on his shoulder. 

For some time they sat thus, heart to heart, in 
silence more eloquent than any words could 
have been. 

“Oh, my Cad!" he murmured, “never to part 
again. You will come with me now. Nothing 
shall ever take you from me. I love you so. I 
have been so unhappy without you.” 

“Poor Joe," softly stroking his dark face with 
a paressing motion peculiar to her," and I have 
so longqd for you. Something told me you 
would come to me tonight, and now, now, I am 
so 'happy." 

“We will go far, far away from here, and live 
our lives together all for ourselves." 


27 


A BITTER T%IAL 

"But why?” she asked. "Why should you 
wish to go away from here?" 

"Would you not follow me to the ends of the 
earth if necessary?” pressing her to him again. 

"If necessary, certainly. Joe, do you believe 
me?” 

"Certainly, I believe you.” 

”1 do not mean that. Do you believe in me?” 

”1 love you,” he answered, laying his cheek to 
hers. 

"Coward!” she cried suddenly, starting vio¬ 
lently from him and jumping to her feet. 

“Cad.” 

"Coward!” she hissed through her teeth. 

"Control yourself," he spoke quietly, although 
with an effort. 

"Control myself? Ah, indeed. Answer me 
now, once for all, do you believe me guilty?" 

"I love you,” he replied doggedly. 

"Do you believe in me, or do you still believe 
that woman’s foul story?” 

"Cad; she is my mother.” 

“And I, what was I?” 

“You are my wife.” 

“And believing me guilty of such a heinous, 
horrible, vile crime, you can still call me wife, 
and wish me to live with you as such?” 

“I love you,” he interrupted her, and cross¬ 
ing held her out in front of him at arms’ length. 



28 


BEHIND MASK 


“I am mad with love of you. I can no longer 
even exist without you. What do I care if you 
have sinned? You love me still. I have read 
it in your eyes, I have felt it in your kisses, as 
I have never done before. What is all the world 
to me, if I can but have you for mine? I am des¬ 
perate. I tell you, I must have you again. You 
cannot, shall not, stay from me. Do you hear?” 

"And you would so insult a defenseless wom¬ 
an?” 

"Insult you. No.” 

"You believe the story?” 

"Why go over it? My mother gave me her 
word,and you know what I saw myself.” 

"And I gave you my word.” 

"She is my mother; why should she lie?” 

"And I am your wife. Tell me,” she broke 
forth; "did woman ever give herself so complete¬ 
ly to a man before? Did I have a thought you 
did not share? Did I have a feeling which did 
not concern you? 

"Were you not my very life, my joy, my sor¬ 
row, my all? Could anyone realize or know how 
completely I was yours, as well as you did your¬ 
self? And how did you repay such devotion? By 
listening to every seed planted in your mind 
against me by an evil, designing woman. 
Much as you professed to return my love, still 
you listened and believed against the woman 


A BITTER TRIAL 


29 


that was flesh of your flesh, bone of your bone, 
who daily, hourly gave her all unresistingly to 
you; and now, now, you would insult such per¬ 
fect love as I have given you, and drag it into 
the dirt by asking me to become simply your 
mistress. I cannot bear it.” She paced rapidly 
up and down the room. “I cannot bear it. It is 
too much,” she muttered to herself.” 

“Be still and listen to me,” he said suddenly, 
meeting her in her excited walk, and grasping 
her by the shoulders so that she was forced to 
stand before him. 

"No one knows the story. You are my wife, 
and you must live with me. I command you.” 

"As your wife, yes. As your mistress, never.” 

"What do you mean?” 

"I mean that when you come to me and tell 
me that you know I am true, when you will ac¬ 
knowledge yourself in the wrong, when you give 
me proof of your belief other than mere words; 
then, and then only, will I consent to act as 
your wife. Until that time we will be stran¬ 
gers. To live with you now, would be com¬ 
mitting as vile a sin as that of which you ac¬ 
cuse me." 

"Your decision is fixed?” 

"It is.” 

"Oh, Cad," he broke forth in a groan, as he 
read the look of unalterable resolve upon her 


3o 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


face. "Oh, Cad; how can I live without you? 
My life is absolutely miserable. I can find no 
peace, no rest, no happiness. My pride is in 
the dust before you. Guilty or not guilty, I 
implore you, I beg of you to come to me.” 

He threw himself down beside her chair, bury¬ 
ing his face in his hands. 

"You have made your own unhappiness, Joe,” 
moving nearer to his side, and speaking in a 
grave, quiet tone now; "and mine, too,” she 
finished slowly. 

"Everywhere I go I see you. In my dreams 
you are ever beckoning me on, with your arms 
outstretched; and when I would clasp you to 
my heart, you sank away, and I awaken. When 
I read you come between me and my book. When 
I attempt to write, I find my pen tracing: ‘Cad, 
Cad/ until it all seems as if it would make 
me mad. My brain seems on fire. I can bear 
the company of no one. For four years I have 
been a lonely wanderer, seeking for what noth¬ 
ing nor no one can give me but yourself." 

"Poor boy,” she murmured, laying a kind hand 
upon his bowed head, "l am very sorry for you.” 

"Are you, Cad?” he said quickly. "Then you 
don’t despise me?” 

"No, I don’ t despise you. I understand you 
too well not to understand how deeply you must 
suffer, how strongly the maligning tongue must 


e/f BITTER T%ML 


31 

have moved, to turn you from a happiness so deep 
as yours. Listen, Joe. I know how honorable 
your principles are; you have always held a 
woman in the deepest veneration. Tell me, 
could your love outlast, if I should come to you 
now, I knowing and you feeling that I know, 
that you considered me not a pure woman— 
your wife, for whom you are answerable to all 
men; your wife, the one chosen woman of the 
world; your wife, at whom could be pointed the 
finger of scorn? Tell me, would this love you 
have for me now outlast such thoughts and con¬ 
victions as these?” 

“Oh, it must—it should!” he cried, clenching 
his hands together. “I should force it to obey 
my will.” 

“Oh, no, you would not,” she interrupted, 
“your will is strong, God knows how strong, 
when it is capable of driving the woman you 
love from your home; but in this, this one thing, 
I know it could not deceive you. You might con¬ 
trol your voice, your looks, but you could not 
control your heart. If you are miserable, what 
am I—a defenseless woman, without father, 
mother, husband, home, aye, without even a 
name; and yet I can say I am positive that my 
misery then, with such a foul, black lie between 
us night and day, mingling with our looks, our 
sighs, our kisses, I can honestly assure you that 


32 


‘BEHIND MASK 


my misery would be ten-fold that what it is 
now. And then, again, Joe, I am not, nor ever 
have I been, a preacher, yet my religious princi¬ 
ples are deep, and up to them I simply must 
live, if I am to have any happiness, nay, any 
peace.” 

"I know, Cad," he murmured, looking up into 
her face which for the moment radiated with the 
purity of a soul whiter than most men are per¬ 
mitted to look upon. "I know, Cad,” he repeat¬ 
ed, "I think that is what keeps me so closely 
wedded to you, even in our separation." 

"Is it?" she answered, a smile spreading over 
her lips, at the simple trust expressed in his 
face. "You know,” she went on after a short 
pause, "I do not believe in a divorce. I quarrel 
with no one’s opinions. I have had good friends, 
true and holy, who have sought such an avenue 
of escape from their unhappiness; yet my per¬ 
sonal feeling is that when a woman willingly 
gives her all to the man she loves, it is forever; 
and the simple command in the marriage service, 
'Those whom God hath joined together, let no 
man put asunder,’ has rung incessantly in my 
ears, when the thought of an absolute divorce 
would come to me. To me, a wife is a most 
holy thing; trustingly she gives her honor into 
a man’s keeping; she is to him what she can 
be to no other. The love is between the two 


e/f HITTER TRML 


33 


shared nor witnessed by none save the Creator. 
Answer me now: Do you, believing all the ill 
of me you can, do you consider me capable of 
coming to you now, knowing that in your heart 
you may be whispering to yourself, ‘she is with 
another as she is with me. She gives to another 
what she gives to me. I wonder if she kisses, 
caresses him as she is doing now to me?’" 

“For God’s sake cease,” he cried violently. 
"You will drive me insane. Cad,” seizing her 
light waist with a grasp of steel and drawing 
her to him; “Cad, as God is our judge, are you 
pure? ” 

“As God is my judge,” she answered solemn¬ 
ly, “I am and always have been, a pure woman.” 

“Oh, if I could only believe it,” he groaned 
aloud. “Tell me, why can’t I believe in you?" 

“It is very simple,” she said quietly. “Be¬ 
cause you will not. We argue to no purpose. 
Some time God in his own way will prove my in¬ 
nocence to you, and then each word that I have 
spoken will fall on your ears again like a con¬ 
viction; and then I tell you honestly it may be 
too late.” 

“How do you mean?” he asked breathlessly. 

“I mean that by that time perhaps my power 
of loving you may have gone, never to return. 
I cannot say; all I know is that love like mine 
Behind A Mask j 


34 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


may stand everything but an accusation of infi¬ 
delity. It is the cruelest blow that it can re¬ 
ceive. You must go now,” she said, "it is very 
late. I would be better alone; and besides," 
with a sarcastic smile curling her lips, "I never 
receive callers after twelve o’ clock." 

"That is very unkind,” he murmured, as he rose 
slowly to his feet. “But I will come tomorrow, 
for I must see you again.” 

“Yes, you may come tomorrow; but our inti¬ 
macy ceases with tonight. I forbid you to ac¬ 
quaint any one with the fact of our marriage. 
As I am Mrs. Brown here, so you will please 
address me in the future. As an old acquaint¬ 
ance I shall treat you—nothing more. If you are 
content to stand in the same relation to me as 
the other men do, you may come; otherwise, I 
must forbid your presence, or disappear once 
more. Do you consent?" 

"Yes, I will consent to any arrangement you 
may make," he said humbly, "as long as you will 
give me the happiness of at least seeing you." 

“Very well, then. Good night, Joe; my pray¬ 
ers go with you.” 

“Good night, Cad,” he answered sadly, and 
walked slowly toward the door. Turning sud¬ 
denly, he exclaimed: “Will you kiss me just 
once for old time’s sake?" 


e/f FITTER TRIAL 


35 


"No, dear,” she answered gently, "it would 
not be right to either of us.” 

"Very well, then, I can only go,” and opening 
the door he went slowly out. As his footsteps 
died away in the distance, she threw herself 
down, sobbing only as a strong woman can. Her 
Maker only knew how sorely tempted she had 
been; her Maker only knew the victory she had 
won. Gradually her tears ceased, and sleep came 
with its blessed repose, and quiet fell on the 
scene where two hearts had ached almost to 
•breaking. 

* * * * * * * * 

"Eaves-droppers are in style in Oceanside,” 
murmured a tall figure, as he stretched himself 
out in his chair, "but this is one of the times 
when one heard more good than evil. Poor little 
woman. By Jove, what a consummate ass that 
fellow is. The woman’s voice fairly rung with 
truth. I must have a smoke,” he muttered, and 
drawing forth his case, he lit a cigar and pulled 
savagely on it. "So, Mrs. B. is not Mrs. B. 
after all; and I have been hitting her off and 
judging her, too, like the conceited jackanapes 
I am. Poor little woman,” winking his eyes for 
a moment. "Confound this cigar, the smoke 
keeps filling my eyes all the time so I can’t 
see. No, Pm blessed if it is. You are crying, 
Harold, my boy. Own up to it, now. Well, I 


BEHIND *A MASK 


56 

don’t care if I am. Such a beastly shame. My! 
but the first part of that interview just about 
turned my head, and then, well, by gad, I didn’t 
think a woman could have so much nobility 
about her any way. I wonder if I couldn’t help 
her somehow or other? Anyway, I can try; and I 
Will, too. Oh, but she’s a thoroughbred, sure 
enough. It would be a beastly shame to have 
this thing go on long enough for her to get over 
caring for him. Not that I care about him, but 
I should like to see the brave little woman hap¬ 
py; and if she has done anything, and I can 
prove her innocent, I’ll do it. Quixotic that; but 
then I have always been some kind of an ‘ic,’ 
eccentric, egotistic, and so on. Spunky little 
piece,” he thought admiringly; "spunky, I 
should say so; but I admire it in any one, a 
woman most of all. Think I had better go to 
bed. 'Good night, Cad;’ I like that name. It 
sounds like her. You have made one friend to¬ 
day, that you shall always count on hereafter. 
Poor little girl,” he murmured again, as he 
stole softly away; "oh, dash it all, there I go 
again. But I can’t help it; I swear I can’t.” 


CHAPTER II 

TWO ^AGAINST ONE 

“Get up, you lazy fellow,” cried Harwood the 
next morning, banging on his friend’s door. 
“Get up; it’s half-past six.” 

“All right,” came in muffled tones through 
the key hole. 

“No; it is not all right. I am going down 
to take a plunge, and if you don’t hurry, I’ll go 
alone." 

“Oh, wait, Harold, that’s a good fellow,” 
cried Devine, fairly awake now. “I will be out 
in just one moment. Here I am,” opening the 
door after a short pause. 

“Seen Mrs. Brown this morning?” he asked as 
they were trudging through the sand. 

“No,” said Harwood, “but we have a new 
boarder, and he came early." 

“Yes; who is it?” 

“The fellow that caused Mrs. Brown’s upset yes¬ 
terday. " 

“When did he come?” 

“Last night, I think. He has already been 
down for a swim." 


37 


38 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“What is his name?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Handsome fellow, isn’t he?" 

“Think so? I don’t.” 

“He struck me so yesterday. Elegant physique. 
Good Lord! Look at that woman ride. Here 
she comes this way," Devine interrupted himself, 
standing still with a look of mingled awe and 
admiration on his face. “You must be right, 
Harold, she evidently has something heavy 
on her conscience which she recklessly tries to 
ride off.” 

“Go on to your bath house,” said his friend 
sharply, “and have enough sense not to stare a 
woman out of countenance. She has not done 
anything to you, has she? And besides," he con¬ 
tinued slowly, “I have changed my mind about 
Mrs. Brown. I am sure I have judged her un¬ 
wisely. She is a noble woman. Would to heaven 
there were more such in the world." 

“What has come over the spirit of your 
dreams?” asked his friend good-naturedly, as he 
turned his gaze from the flying figure and looked 
him in the face. “Yesterday you—" 

“Yes, yesterday,” interrupted Harwood, “but 
that is not today, is it?” 

“Oh, no; but I give it up. You are much too 
deep for me. However, you need not trouble, 



TWO AGAINST ONE 


30 


my boy. I have nothing to say against the lady. 
She appears most charming to me, I assure you. 
So long.” 

* * * * * * 

"Good morning, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Brown, 
walking briskly into the breakfast room, the 
skirt of her habit thrown over her arm. 

"You do not object to my company, do you?” 
pulling out a chair at their table, “for I would 
like to take my breakfast with you.” 

“Indeed no,” exclaimed Harwood, jumping 
from his seat to arrange hers for her. “It is a 
pleasure we did not hope for.” 

“Them’s my sentiments exactly," said Devine 
laughing. “Been riding?” 

“Yes,” she smiled, showing her white teeth, 
“and such a scamper. Caesar and I are of one 
mind. We glory in a run before breakfast.” 

“Well, we took a plunge in to the briny in¬ 
stead,” said Devine. 

“I wonder which feels the better of the two?” 

“I consider it about even, for I have had both.” 

“You have had both? Gracious! When did 
you get up?” he asked in astonishment. 

“When I woke up, to be sure. Ah, Mr. Tearle,” 
rising from her seat to greet a gentleman, who 
had followed a waiter to the table. “Mr. Har¬ 
wood, Mr. Devine, Mr. Tearle. Mr. Tearle anc} 
myself are old acquaintances.” 


4 o 


c BEHIND *A MASK 


"Rather,” thought Harwood. 

"And yesterday, when he caused Caesar to 
drop me off so unceremoniously, I was so dazed 
that I forgot my manners entirely and neglected 
to present you.” 

"Your apologies are accepted,” answered Har¬ 
wood quickly, noting a surprised expression on 
Devine’s face, and wishing to avoid any remarks 
of surprise from him. 

"Yes, it was a fall such as only you could 
have taken without a severe attack of hysterics," 
the stranger said with a pleasant smile as he 
took his place, "and that you forgot your man¬ 
ners, as you call it, is no wonder.” 

"Oh, well, I suppose one can’t very well en¬ 
deavor'to stand in one’s hat without some sort 
of a crooked result as to what that hat covers,” 
she said laughing. "But then, 'all is well/ 
and if I am forgiven, I feel perfectly satisfied. 
How about the rest of you?” 

"On consideration of your never doing so 
again, as my mother used to say very often to 
me, when I was a little chap, we will overlook 
the offense for this time,” Devine said in a grave 
tone, "but really, we could not pardon such a 
breach of etiquette often—” 

"What in the world are you talking about, 
George?” cried Harwood. 


TWO AGAINST ONE 


41 


"I don’t know. Do any of us?” he asked with 
a puzzled look. 

“I am afraid it is getting dense,” said Mrs. 
Brown laughing; "and as I do not generally ap¬ 
prove of discussing subjects of which density is 
the chief characteristic, suppose we change it 
and ask you how you liked your dip this morn¬ 
ing. You were on your way to it, were you not, 
when I passed you?” 

"Yes, and a fine swim it was, too, only Harold 
beat me in a race we took out to the buoy and 
back. ” 

"Indeed!” 

"Oh, yes, my lazy friend has energy enough 
and to sp^re when he chooses to exert it. He 
has always excelled me in everything; even as 
a boy I never stood any chance, if he but made 
up his mind beforehand.” 

"I am afraid you are too nervous and anxious 
to succeed to keep your head cool, and the strain 
you put on yourself wears you out before you 
give your physical capabilities a fair oppor¬ 
tunity.” 

"That is just it, Mrs. Brown,” said Harwood, 
"and so I have told him dozens of times, but 
he will not believe me.” 

"By the way,” Devine asked her, "do you 
swim as well as you ride?” 

"Much better, if anything,” responded the 


42 


BEHIND *A MASK 


stranger quickly, “she is the quickest woman 
in the water I ever saw. Indeed, good swim¬ 
mer as I always have been considered, she has 
beaten—” 

“You, you were going to say?” asked Mrs. 
Brown, in her smooth, clear vocie. He had 
stopped himself abruptly, his face flushing. 

“Yes, Mr. Tearle was considered the best 
swimmer at Old Orchard Beach, where I spent 
the summer five years ago, and in a friendly 
race between the guests of our hotel, I had the 
honor of winning the prize.” 

“I propose we have a trial tomorrow morn¬ 
ing before breakfast,” said Devine. 

“Why not before lunch?” asked the stranger. 

“Too hot," said Harwood, laconically. 

“Perhaps not,” said Devine. “It does not 
seem as if it were going to be such a scorcher 
today. ” 

“Well I am willing to try conclusions with 
you all,” she said, “always providing the weather 
suits. ” 

“What are you going to do this morning?” 
asked Devine as they arose from the table. 

“Sit on the porch and smoke cigarettes,” she 
smiled, “and you?” 

“Likewise, if you will allow me.” 

“Certainly, come; we will stay here until the 
stage comes in and then if it still continues 


TWO ^AGAINST ONE 


43 


cool, we will take a trip to the beach. Aren’t 
you coming also?” she asked* turning to Har¬ 
wood and Tearle who were dawdling at the door. 

“Here’s a nice corner, Mr. Devine; suppose 
we take it.” 

“Yes, it is pleasant. What a lovely view of 
the ocean! " 

“Exquisite!" she replied, absently, her eyes 
wandering toward the two at the end of the 
porch. “You have known your friend since you 
were a boy, have you not?” she turned toward 
him. 

“Yes, we went to school, academy and college 
together." 

“I should think he was much older than you.” 

“Only a couple of years. He graduated two 
years before me. We always roomed together, 
and he remained in Cambridge just on purpose 
to wait until I graduated so that we should not 
be separated.” 

“You are fond of him?” 

“Fond of him—well, yes, I think I am. We 
have been 'Damoned* for years, and honestly, a 
better, truer, more chivalrous gentleman and 
friend never lived, than Harold Harwood.” 

“Has he any family?” 

“Yes, one brother, but a sorry scamp he is, I 
am afraid. All the rest are dead. Poor fellow, 
he was so fond of his mother and sister. He has 


44 


BEHIND *A MASK 


done everything in his power for his brother, but 
to no purpose. He is a typical spendthrift and 
scapegrace. ” 

"May I have a seat with you?" asked the sub¬ 
ject of their conversation, as he joined them. 
"You look very cosy here." 

"We are," she smiled brightly, "and we are 
awaiting the event of the day to arrive." 

"Which means, the stage, I presume?” 

"Why certainly," said Devine. "That is the 
feature of all country towns I have ever been in." 

"Mr. Hill told me this morning, that he ex¬ 
pected a large number from Boston, to-day," 
said Harwood. 

"I think they must be all coming at once, 
then," said Mrs. Browne, "for I noticed nearly 
all of the cottages are occupied." 

"May I present you with one of my cheroots, 
instead of that?" asked Tearle. "You know you 
were always fond of this brand." 

"Yes, I remember; but thank you, I do not 
care for any at present." 

"Ah, the stage! " exclaimed Devine, suddenly. 
"And crowded too. By Jove, what a pretty 
woman! " he ejaculated, leaning forward. "Look 
at her." 

"Heavens!" cried Mrs. Brown. 

"The devil!" muttered Tearle, turning his 
head away. 


TWO GAINST O&CE 


45 


“Something up!" muttered Harwood, narrowly 
watching the two faces which had suddenly faced 
each other. His appealing and imploring; hers 
disdainful and angry. 

“I wonder what that pretty woman has to do 
with these two." 

“Excuse me, I wish to see—I wish to go in¬ 
side for a moment,” Tearle stammered out in¬ 
coherently as he hurried around the porch and 
passed into the hotel. 

“Go too, Mr. Devine! " exclaimed Mrs. Brown 

I see you are perishing with curiosity to find 
out who is who. Go, and then bring me news." 

“Shall I follow suit?" asked Harwood, quietly 
leaning toward her. 

“No—that is, of course, suit yourself.' 

“Then I remain." he said lightly. 

A silence fell between them. 

“Poor little woman'’ he said suddenly, "I am 
very sorry for you. Somehow you appear lonely 
to me. 

“What do you mean?” she asked quickly, look¬ 
ing him in the eye. 

“I mean that a male friend is a dangerous 
thing for a woman to have, yet, I should like to 
offer the best a man can give, an honest friend¬ 
ship." 

'Thank you," she replied slowly, “I have few 


4 6 


BEHIND zH MzASK 


enough such offers, not to accept such a one from 
you." 

“Then you do?” 

“Yes.” 

“Confide in me, then." 

“What shall I confide?” her look expressed 
wonder. 

“Will you be vexed if I confess something to 
you?” 

“No." 

“You promise?" 

“On my honor.” 

“Then come with me around the house here and 
I will show you something.” 

“Why, what can it be?" she said in a maze. 

“Do you see that little porch over there?" 

“Yes." 

“That is my room." 

“Well?" 

“Well." 

“Oh, Harwood!" following his glance up¬ 
ward, “you must have—” 

“Yes, I heard. I understand it all, and I wish 
humbly to beg your pardon for the thoughtless 
words you overheard from the same spot yester¬ 
day. " 

“And if you heard, what do you think?” 

“That you are one of the purest, noblest wo¬ 
men to whom God has ever vouchsafed life; and 


TWO ^G^INST ONE 


47 


that the one who would not believe you must be 
bereft of his senses.” 

"I thank you.” Only three words, but they 
spoke volumes; they came so straight from the 
heart. The honest gray eyes were lifted to his 
with such a world of gratitude in their liquid 
depths; the chin quivered, the whole face 
showed an intensity of feeling hard to describe. 

“Your hand,” she murmured softly, stretching 
out her own, which he grasped quickly and 
raised to his lips with such deep respect in his 
whole attitude, that, overpowered, she turned 
away her head and leaned against the rail. 

“I must go in now.” she said after a short 
silence. “We will meet in an hour or so, and I 
should like to be alone at present. God bless 
you, Harwood! ” she burst forth suddenly. “You 
have done me more good than I can tell you, 
and I will trust you. God knows my trouble 
has seemed more than I could bear, at times. 
You do not realize what comfort your offer of 
friendship portends to me.” 

“You have but to command me.” he answered # 
softly. “I will do all I can, and I, too, thank 
you for your simple trust in me. Something 
new has happened to acid to your sorrow to-day. 
Can you tell me what it is, or am I intruding 
too far?” 

“Not at all, I told you I would trust you, and 


BEHIND oa^sk 


48 


I promise to tell you to-night the miserable tale 
from the beginning. Now I can only say, Heaven 
bless you! Good bye,” turning in at the first 
door and gliding rapidly away. 

‘‘Now to find out what this new occurrence 
means.” he said to himself, as he walked slowly 
toward the front of the house, where a group of 
boarders were congregated. 

* * * * * * 

Mrs. Brown’s door was thrown open impul¬ 
sively, and showed to the intruder, what he 
thought a pretty picture; Mrs. Brown, before 
the mirror, her waist off, and her bare neck and 
arms gleaming white as she brushed the masses 
of tawny hair. 

"Cad! ” he exclaimed. 

“You?” she cried, “for shame! By what right 
do you dare enter my room in such a manner. 
Leave instantly! " blushing furiously with shame 
and anger as she drew her hair about her should¬ 
ers, until only here and there showed the glim¬ 
mer of her white skin through its clouds. 

‘‘Oh, Cad!” crossing rapidly to her side, ‘‘leave 
you—never! kiss me just once. You make such 
a picture you turn my brain, you set it on fire. 
I cannot, I will not leave you. I love you; oh, 
I love you. Have pity on me! ” and he sank 
down before her. 

‘‘Have pity on .you? Have you had pity on me? 


TIVO AGAINST o&qe 


49 


"Why have you allowed that woman to find out 
my hiding place? Could you not have left me 
in peace?" 

"As God is my witness, I did not tell her where 
I was going. I do not know how she found me 
out. ” 

"Oh, what then?" he cried, springing to his 
feet, and clasping his arms tightly about her. 

"What then? I love you! Is it not enough? 
What do I care for her—for the world, If I have 
but you?" 

And brushing back the hair with which she 
vainly endeavored to shield her bare shoulders, 
he rained hot, passionate kisses down upon the 
soft, white flesh. 

"See! see! You are mine. Can aught take you 
from me? Whose right is better than mine to hold 
you in my arms? Whose right is as mine to 
kiss you so, and so, and so?" pressing his lips to 
her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. 

I tell you, this must end. You must, you 
shall come to me. Be mine once more. I will 
not take your "no" for an answer." 

"Will you tell me on your word of honor, that 
you believe the tales false, that you believe me 
a woman such as I ought to be?” 

“Yes," he muttered quickly. 

"You will tell me this and mean it?" 

"Yes!" 

Behind a Mash 4 


5° 


‘BEHIND A EMtASK 


Oh, Joe, Joe! ’’and the bare arms went around 
his neck. “You will believe in me again. Oh, 
Father, I thank thee! ” and sinking down onto her 
couch while he knelt beside her, she laid his 
head against the beating heart, and with perfect 
abandonment, gave herself up to his kisses. 

“Joe,’’she whispered softly. 

“Yes, sweetheart.” 

“I love you so dearly, so truly. Tell me now 
once again; forgive me that I ask it, but after 
you have granted my request, I will divulge a 
secret to you. Swear to me now by all you hold 
sacred, that you will never doubt me again.’ 

“I swear it! ” 

“Thank you," with a kiss. “And now raise 
your hand so, see,” as she gravely lifted her own, 
“oh, Joe, marriage is such a holy, holy tie and we 
should never abuse such sanctity—never. We have 
done so wrong; but there. Now raise your hand 
and repeat after me,—I know how honest you 
are, and I can trust you, still, I shall feel better 
for it—say: I tell you honest and truly, and—” 

“I tell you honestly an truly, Cad,” he repeat¬ 
ed slowly, “that as Heaven is my judge, I have 
judged you wrongly; and do believe you, and in 
you and that I do not consider your love nor 
your nature capable of the vile sins of which you 
have been accused,” 


TWO *A GAINST ONE 


5i 

,, Well? ,, she said after a pause, as he did not 
take up her words, “have I said too much, Pet?" 
—she pressed the curly head closer to her bosom 
as she gently brushed his forehead with a kiss. 

“I will begin a*gain—” 

“Stop!” he muttered. “Bend your head once 
and kiss me on the mouth. Thank you.” 

“Well, will you not do it for me?” 

“My God, I can’t! ” he cried, burying his face 
in her lap. 

"Why not, darling?” 

"Because?—” 

"Because?” she echoed softly. 

"Because I would lie.” 

"Would lie?” she repeated vaguely; “how?” 

"Because, oh, because, Cad, I don’t.” 

"Don’t what?” 

"Can’t you understand? Much as I love you, 
I do not believe in you, I can’t help it.” 

"You mean you still believe me guilty?” 

"Yes,” nodding his head. 

"Oh, Father have pity,” she mutteerd 
brokenly, covering her face with her two hands. 
Have pity.’ 

"But, Cad,” he whispered, sliding his arm 
about her neck, “I—” 

"Take your hands from off me immediately! 
Do you hear?” she exclaimed, turning a pale 
drawn face to him. "Go. I never wish to see 


52 


‘BEHIND [MASK 


your face again. You have killed my heart, my 
soul, you will ruin my trust in God, if you stay 
longer with me. Go! " 

“But what shall I do about—" 

“Do as you please. I do not care. Still if by 
any manner of means, our relations are discov¬ 
ered I swear as true as there is a heaven above 
us, I will never speak to, or ever look on you 
again. Have a care. Use the little authority 
you have. Remove that woman from this house 
and my path, or I shall do something desperate. 
I shall not answer for myself. Go, go now, 
while I can still keep my hands from off you. I 
never thought you capable of so insulting a de¬ 
fenseless woman. I do not bear your name; y@u 
are as nothing to me. I should pray we could 
never meet again.” 

“But, you will not show—” 

“No; I will not show either of us in our true 
colors. You may trust me for that. Yet, I shall 
do just as I see fit. I shall never consider you 
anything again. Aye, not even a man.” 

“I will not ask you to forgive me,” he said 
humbly, “I realize what I must seem in your 
eyes. But I could not help it. I feel as badly 
as you do. Your shame for me is not as great 
as mine is for myself." 

Opening the door, he closed it softly after him 
and was gone, 




TWO AGAINST 0&CE 53 

Passing rapidly along the halls, he stopped 
abruptly before a half open door, attracted by the 
sound of a familiar voice. 

“Albert Moore! he muttered, as he continued 
on his way. “He here too? Room 32 is the 
one, this is 30. Ah,’’ and without stopping to 

knock, he turned the knob and entered. 

A lady stood on the porch just outside the 
long window. At the sound of the closing door, 
she turned slightly toward the room, whose dark¬ 
ened shadows revealed only the shape of a man. 

“Oh, Albert, is it you? she said languidly. 
“Really, you should not—” 

“It is not Mr. Moore, mother, it is I." he said 
briefly. 

“You! ” she answered, trembling violently and 
catching at the rail for support. “You here?” 

“Yes, why not?” 

“I thought you were in Canada,” she said, 
making a visible effort to regain her self-com¬ 
mand. 

"Why, Joe!” and advancing quickly into the 
room, she threw her arms around his neck and 
kissed him. “There,” she exclaimed pettishly, 
pushing him from her, “you have taken my 
breath away. You should not frighten me so.” 

“Frighten you? I did not imagine my pres¬ 
ence would in any way prove a source of appre¬ 
hension to you.” 


54 


‘BEHIND A {MASK 


“Yes, but you bounce in on me with your 
usual melodramatic manner, and say: ‘It is I, 
mother’, and frighten the wits half out of me. 
I wish you would think a little more of the effect 
of some of your actions." 

“Very well, I will endeavor in the future. 
Say no more about it, I am sorry I startled you." 

“I have a favor to ask of you, mother," he 
began slowly, “one I am most anxious for you 
to grant." 

“Well—" she commenced, turning a pair of 
pretty, but cold, blue eyes upon his face, watch¬ 
ing narrowly its expression, “what is it?" 

“Cad is here." 

“What!" she almost screamed, “that woman 
here?" 

“That is what I said." 

“And you dare to mention her name in my 
presence?" 

“I do." 

“For shame, to so insult your mother!" 

“I do not insult you." 

“Then I suppse you have been living together 
all this time, as happy as cooing doves. With 
whom do you at persent share her affections?" 

“No one." 

“Oh!" a sarcastic sneer curling her lip. “She 
has reformed, you think?" 


TIVO AG./n^CS7 


55 


"If you please, we will :iot discuss her any 
more. She is here, you are here, and I the same. 

"Quite a family reunion,” she interrupted. 

"I stumbled over her accidentally," he went 
on calmly. ‘‘She does not bear my name, but is 
called Mrs. Brown.” 

"Positively, she has more taste than I imag¬ 
ined. Well—?” 

“You may be quite satisfied she will not live 
with me, and she refuses to allow me to divulge 
the fact of our marriage. 

“The shameful—” 

"Oh, not at all. You just commended her 
good taste, remember, and now I wish to request 
you to give me your promise not to mention the 
fact in any manner whatever.” 

"Why?” watching him closely from the corners 
of her eyes. 

"Because I desire it.” 

"And if I refuse?” 

"You will not refuse.” 

"No?” 

"No, I am positive you will not.” 

"Truly, you are very dictatorial in your man¬ 
ner to your mother. What is there to prevent 
my driving this shameful woman from the house?” 

"I!.. 


BEHIND a [MASK 


56 


' Do you confess still to giving such a creature 
any of your affection?” 

“I confess nothing." 

"Then I must refuse to grant your favor.” 

"Then I command you.” 

"You command me?” she repeated slowly, 
growing pale as she spoke. 

“Yes, I command you.” 

"By what right?” 

“We will not argue any further. I am aware 
that Moore has never seen her, as during the two 
years we were together, he was in Europe. 
Therefore, you will swear to me that you will 
neither hint at, nor speak of her, to anyone, but 
simply as Mrs. Brown." 

And if I will not?” . 

"But you will.” his face cold and expres¬ 
sionless. 

"Surely he must suspect something,” she 
thought, "or he would not dare to speak so to 
me. Joe, have you thought of all the conse¬ 
quences?” she asked aloud. 

"I have.” 

"Very well, then, I promise you to accede to 
your desire.” 

"It is not enough. You must give me your 
oath.” 

"I swear it then," she said, in a low, hard tone. 


TIVO ^AGAINST ONE 


57 


■* 

"That is quite sufficient. Thank you. 
see you at dinner.” Without another 
turned on his heel and left the room. 


I shall 
word he 



CHAPTER III 

A FRIEND IN NEED 

"Poor little woman! ” said Harwood, his voice 
breaking. "I never heard such a miserable tale 
before. Will you believe me if I promise you 
to spend all my life if necessary, in clearing up 
this outrageous scandal?" 

"I do believe you." she answered softly, "It 
is a long time since I have so trusted anyone." 

“Tell me again. You think that the man was 
hired to penetrate into your room in order to 
insult you?" 

"Yes, I swear by all I hold sacred, that I 
never saw the man before.” 

"And Mrs. Tearle found him there, and he 
jumped from the window, just as your husband 
entered the door?" 

"Yes.” 

"And he believed you guilty?" 

"Was it not evidence enough?" 

"For some, perhaps, he muttered to himself, 
"but it would not have been for me. And again 
they found a package of letters in your room 
from him?" 

"Yes." 

58 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


50 


"And you had no one to whom to turn?” 

"No one. My parents are both dead. I have 
only one uncle and he lives somewhere in India. 
He is my sole relative. My friends were most¬ 
ly friends of Mrs. Tearle. I could not depend 
on them, and so I ran away.” 

"Which caused them to say that you were 
guilty?” 

"Oh, no, I think, in fact, I feel quite sure, 
that Joe is too proud to allow anyone to believe 
aught of his honor.” 

"Yes, I did not think of that. Now, tell me,” 
he continued, “who is Mr. Moore?” 

"I dislike saying such a thing, but my belief 
is, that he is Mrs. Tearle’s lover, for she and 
her husband do not live happily together. I 
have no proof of such a thing, and perhaps 
should not mention it.” 

"Is she a flirt?” 

"Oh, yes; she is that decidedly.” 

"With a son of such an age,” he said, disgust¬ 
edly. "She should know better.” 

"She is only forty-five. Joe is but twenty- 
eight. ” 

"He looks ten years older than that.” 

"Yes, his trouble has left its mark.” 

"Do you think they will speak of you as any 
other than Mrs. Brown?” 

"Oh, no, Joe has given me his word, and he 


6 o 


‘BEHIND *A [MASK 


always keeps it. I should be obliged to leave 
if he did; and you know by what you have seen 
to-night that all my happiness is here. Besides 
that, my only friend is my dear old nurse. Oh, 
it does seem sometimes as if I could not tell 
where all this would end." 

"But I can," said Harwood, cheerfully. "Rest 
assured, I shall succeed. I always do when it is 
in a good cause, and I make up my mind. Now 
I will leave you, for it will not be best for us 
to be seen too much together." 

"Very well, give me your horse. I will take 
him to the stable for you. Rob is perfectly 
devoted to me, and I will make it all right with 
him, having two horses instead of one." 

"I have always wondered at this nightly ride 
of yours, but the mystery is all explained any¬ 
way. Good night," he said, taking her hand 
in both of his, as he stood by her side, "be of 
good cheer, it shall be all right. I pledge you 
my word.” 

"Good-night, Harwood," she answered, smil¬ 
ing sadly, "and heaven bless you." 

"Well, I have heard of the husbands’ mother- 
in-law since time immemorial,” he said to him¬ 
self, as he strode off toward the hotel, "but as 
usual women never get a show in this world, and 
one never hears of the wife’s mother-in-law. 
By Jove, though, if a few of them have to deal 


FRIEND IN NEED 


61 

with such samples as this one, what a deuce of a 
time they must have. Ah, what’s that? Voices? 
Hold on, I will just reconnoitre a little and 
see what this is. I can’t keep my eyes and ears 
too wide open just now. Comes from that old 
oak. I remember there is a rustic bench 
beneath it. Be careful, my boy,” and he crept 
silently up behind the speakers. 

“Pity I cannot see anything," he muttered. 
“Why on earth don’t they speak?” 

"Albert," said a woman’s voice, “I’ve asked 
you about a hundred times, what we are to do." 

“And I have answered you every time that I do 
not know." 

“We can’t go away.” 

“Why not?" 

“Because Joe is so suspeious of everyone, that 
he might suspect something immediately." 

“I presume we shall be obliged to remain. 

“What did you make such an oath to him in 
regard to his wife for? You have spoiled every¬ 
thing with that." 

“He obliged me to; I could not help it." 

“Well, we shall have to keep apart, and you 
will have to find some young fool to flirt with to 
avoid appearances. Have you seen any?" 

“Yes, two." 

“What are their names?" 



62 


"BEHIND *A MASK 


“Harwood and Devine, and they both seem to 
be susceptible.” 

“Well, if that'is so, trust you for turning their 
heads. Come in now, we have been out too 
long.” 

“Very well, just as you say. I shall commence 
following your advice to-morrow, ” she continued, 
as they arose and walked away; “and—” 

“Fore-warned is too be fore-armed,” said Har¬ 
wood, courteously lifting his hat toward the 
retreating couple. 

“Upon my word, to think that any one should 
consider me such a soft looking sap as that. 
‘Susceptible’ I think she said. Yes, I know she 
did; didn’t I hear her; very well then, it will 
not be hard for me to play my cards. So much 
the better. And you are right, Mrs. B., he is 
most evidently her lover. Great Heavens! I 
wonder what is to be the end of all this.” 

“Hold on there, Johnny?” he cried suddenly, as 
a little fellow running down the garden path, 
collided abruptly with him. “Did you hurt 
yourself?” as he stood him on his feet. “What 
have you got there?” 

“A telegram, sir.” 

“Who gave it to you?” 

“A gentleman, sir.” 

“What is his name, do you know?” 

“Yes, sir, Mr. Moore. He came to-day, and I 


*A FRIEND IN NEED 63 

am to run to the office and have it sent off imme¬ 
diately. ” 

"Is that so? Now how am I to get this?" he 
thought. "Must see the inside of that envelope. 
John," he said, kindly, "would you like to earn 
a dollar?” 

"You bet I would," said the little fellow, ener¬ 
getical ly. 

"Well, then, go back an tell Mr, Moore it is 
all right." 

"But it is not all right. I have not taken it 
yet." 

"I will take it for you." 

"Oh, no, thank you. He told me to take it 
myself, and he would give me a half a dollar, 
when I get back." 

"Is that so? Then I will go with you," and 
turning back, they walked briskly toward the 
office. "Here, "he called to the operator, "Johnny 
has a message for you. Give it to me, John, and 
I will read it." 

To Mrs. J. C. Stone,—St., Boston, Mass. 
Comedown on 9:15, Wednesday. Ella needs 
your assistance immediately. 

(Signed) A. Moore. 

"That’s right, isn’t it. Put up your money, 
John. I will pay for it. Go and get your, half 
a dollar from Mr. Moore. And, oh, Johnny,” he 


64 


BEHIND A (MASK 


called, as the little fellow started off. “You need 
not say you saw me, eh?" 

“All right, sir, I won't sa> anything about you.” 

“That’s a good boy. Goodbye. Mrs. J. Stone, 
now who is Mrs. Stone? I must ask Mrs. B. 
Decidedly, the plot is thickening," and he hur¬ 
ried off to the hotel. 

“Ah, Mrs. Brown, good evening,” he said as 
he joined a group on the porch, composed of 
Tearle, Devine and the lady. “Where have you 
kept yourself all day? I have not seen you about 
since morning.” 

“No, I have not felt very well,” she answered, 
slowly, “and have kept my room.” 

“Why, they are dancing inside, aren’t they?” 
as the music struck up. “George, you are sitting 
still. Wonders upon wonders! And you, Mr. 
Tearle, don’t you ever skip the light fantastic?” 

“Very seldom,” Tearle replied, gravely. 

“What a crowd has appeared since morning! " 
said Harwood, looking in at the window. “Mr. 
Hill was right. He must have had two or three 
stages full to-night, to judge by the number.” 

“Isn’t it late?” asked Mrs. Brown. 

“Not very," he answered, “quarter before 
eleven. ” 

“Late as that!” she exclaimed, rising. “Then 
I must bid you good-night, gentlemen.” 


FRIEND IN (J^EED 65 

“Oh! Mrs. Brown,” cried Harwood suddenly 
striding after her. 

“Yes,” she answered turning to meet him. 

“Can you tell me who Mrs. J. C. Stone is?“ 

“She is Mrs. Tearle’s most intimate friend. 
Why?” 

“She is coming down here to-morrow to visit 
the lady.” 

“Oh! ” 

“I thought I would let you know.” 

“Thank you. One more can make it no worse,” 
she said wearily. 

“Anything I can do for you?” 

“Nothing, thank you. Good night.” 

“Good night. Now for the fascinations of Mrs. 
Tearle,” he said to himself. "Upon my honor, 
Harold, you are getting dreadfully busy in your 
old age." 

“What a pretty woman that is there in the 
black lace,” he said to Tearle joining him at 
the open door. 

“Do you think so? She is my mother.” 

“You can’t mean it? Why, she does not look 
much older than you. Will you present me?” 

“Certainly, haven’t you met her?” 

“No, that is a pleasure yet to come. What a 
spruce looking little chap that is over there. 

Behind A Mask $ 


66 


‘BEHIND zA MASK 


He must have come to-day also, for I have not 
seen him before.” 

"That is Mr. Moore, an old friend of our 
family.” 

"Indeed?" 

"Come, I will present you to my mother if you 
like. Mother, Mr. Harwood requests the pleas¬ 
ure of your acquaintance,” pausing before the 
lady, who was engaged in a lively conversation 
with a number of friends. 

"Mr. Harwood," she exclaimed, looking up 
with a pleasant smile, "I am charmed to meet 
you, sir.” 

Then followed a number of introductions, at 
the close of which Harwood somehow found 
himself on the way back to the porch. 

"Oh, do not let us go outside,” he exclaimed 
suddenly; "it is coming in foggy, and is too 
damp for such a light dress as you have on. 
Waltz with me instead, will you not?” 

"Just a turn, then,” she replied smiling. 

"What a strange thing it seems, Mrs. Tearle, 
that you should have a son like yours. I never 
would own him if I were you.” 

"What would you do, then?” 

"Pass him off as my brother, to be sure, or, 
still better, as my husband.” 

"I fear you flatter, Mr. Harwood,” she said 
with an arch, upward smile into his face. 


*A F%IENT) I&C U^EED 


67 


“Not at all, I could scarcely beli-eve him when 
he claimed his relationship just now. 

“Well, Joe looks much older than his a*ge. 
His life has not been a very happy one.” 

“No?” 

“No; he has had trouble enough to turn his 
head white. I do not wonder he appears so pre¬ 
maturely aged. Few young men pass through 
the trials which have been his unfortunate lot, 
poor fellow. 

“And you, in your turn, have led a life so en¬ 
tirely free from care and anxiety, that the years 
have slipped by without even a wrinkle of sor¬ 
row left to mark its course upon your—I beg your 
pardon—beautiful face. Happy woman, what a 
pity it is that a few more do not carry your light, 
joyous heart written upon their countenances 
with which to diffuse happiness among those sur¬ 
rounding them. 

“Fie, fie, Mr. Harwood, playfully tapping his 
arm with her fan, “a truce to your pretty com¬ 
pliments, and answer me some questions, I am 
anxious to know in regard to Oceanside.” 

“I am at your service. What can I tell you? 

“I always like to know by whom I am sur¬ 
rounded in a country resort, and where the most 
beautiful spots are found. I have heard Ocean- 
side spoken of a great many times, and when 
our party was arranged, last week in Bos- 


68 


‘BEHIND MASK 


ton, I decided to join them. Have you been 
here often?’ 

"Almost every summer for the past fifteen 
years. ” 

"Oh, then, you are a fixture. I am so glad. 
Do many come here?" 

"Yes, a great many. New Yorkers, Bostonians, 
Chicagoans, San Franciscans, Philadel—” 

"That will do—that will do,’* she interrupted 
laughing. "How do you amuse yourself?” she 
asked, her mirth subsiding. 

"Swimming, riding, smoking, drinking, fish¬ 
ing, shooting, flirting, swearing—" 

* "What?” 

1 . "Why, yes, anything to pass the time away, 
you know.” 

"But do the ladies—" 

"Smoke, drink, and swear? I could not tell 
you. Not before me, certainly.” 

"But I asked you how you enjoyed—” 

"Myself,” he interrputed laughing, "and I am 
a man.” 

"But I meant the ladies. 

"Oh, well; let me see,” pulling his mustache 
reflectively. "I suppose if you leave out the 
drinking and swearing, the category of amuse¬ 
ments I just gave you will suit them as well 
as me.” 



*A FRIEND I&C &CEED 6g 

“Do you know every one who is staying here? 
I suppose you do." 

“Well, yes, most of them. A great many came 
today you know, and they are strangers." 

“Who is Mr. Devine?" 

“A rollicking, happy youth, with a pretty 
face, and a heavy pocket." 

“Oh, and who are those ladies there?" 

“Miss Tubbs of Boston, Miss Jones of New 
York, and Mrs. Smith from Chicago." 

“I forgot. Can you tell me who the woman 
is I saw dashing off down the road on horse back 
this afternoon about five o’clock.?" 

“Black horse?" 

“Yes." 

“Little woman, not very pretty; sits her horse 
well ?" 

“Yes, she always did—" 

“Eh?” he asked, as she stopped abruptly. “I 
beg your pardon, what were you saying?" 

“Oh, nothing; but yes, she sat her horse per¬ 
fectly. Now tell me who is she?" 

“One of the trio," he answered with a broad 
grin. 

“What trio?" 

“Why, I told you. Miss Jones of New York, 
Mrs. Smith of Chicago, and lastly Mrs. Brown, 
Of—" 

“You are joking," she interposed quickly. 


70 


‘BEHINT) *A [MASK 


"’Pon my w@i«d, I am not. If you have described 
the lady correctly, it must be Mrs. Brown.” 

"Do you know her very well?” 

"As a hotel acquaintance, yes.” 

"How long has she been here?” 

"Truly, I cannot tell you. She was here when 
I arrived.” 

"Was she here last year?” 

"I do not know. I skipped the last three 
years. ” 

"Oh! She did not come into the hall this even¬ 
ing. At least, I did ^ not see her. Does she 
mingle with the guests much?” 

"Truly, I have never noticed.” 

“Evidently you are not fascinated," she thought 
quickly, and said aloud: 

"Joe seems to be leaving; I would like to speak 
with him. Let us hurry toward the door.” 

"Oh, Joe!” she called, when they reached the 
threshold. 

"Yes, mother,'’ turning about. 

"I wish to see you a moment.” 

"Then I will bid you good evening, Mrs. 
Tearle,” and with a polite inclination of his 
blonde head, he bowed himself away. 

"So you took me for a first-class swell, didn’t 
you my lady?” laying himself out in his seat 
outside of his bed-room window, with his noc¬ 
turnal cigar. “You thought you pumped me dry 


zA F%IEN<D f&C &CEE<B 


7i 


too, but you didn’t. Poor little soul, up there,” 
turning his eyes up to Cad’s room. “What a 
blessing it is that I overheard your story the other 
night. Goodness knows what I might have 
slipped out, if I hadn’t. Just wait, Mrs. Tearle, 
I intend to have my pleasure yet. How she will 
pull the wool over George’s eyes. I must post 
him up a little. Well, Mrs. Stone, I am only 
waiting for you now, for you are coming for no 
good purpose, I know;” with which he arose 
and sought his chamber. 

* * * * * * 

The beach was lined. From the hotel and 
cottages, guests were pouring into the bath¬ 
houses and emerging, clad in the prettiest of 
suits; blue and red, black and yellow. A num¬ 
ber, in seaside costumes, sat on benches under 
the tents, and still others, reclining on clean 
yellow sand, sheltered by sunshades, carried on 
the usual languid flirtations of a watering place. 

The waves come gliding in upon the shore, 
looking so smooth and harmless until they 
break, when the poor paadler and wader standing 
there so all-unconscious, is in mortal danger of 
the most dreaded of all mishaps, that most mor¬ 
tifying of all occurences, the “roll." 

One must be “rolled” just once, in order to 
thoroughly appreciatate what a “roll” is—taken up 


72 BEHIND A EM'tASK 

by a wave, and turned over and over until the 
breath is fairly whirled from the body, driven 
so deeply into the sand, that one imagines he 
will soon get through to China if he keeps on; 
then left almost unconscious on the beach, you 
are awakened by a howl of merriment from the 
lookers on, who mostly have passed through just 
the same experience themselves, and know to a 
dot, the state of your mind, with a confused idea 
as to whether that treacherous water during its 
rapturous embrace, has, perhaps not carried off 
your bathing suit, you pull yourself together, 
and rise to the situation, after a hurried glance 
to find if you really are all there, feeling just 
about as mean and sneaky as it is possible for a 
human being to feel. You are hailed with 
inquiries something like these: 

“Didn’t you drop something?” 

“Were you digging worms?” 

“I say,-are we going to have clams for supper 
to-night?” 

“What were you trying to do with that big 
wave, just now?” 

And so on throughout the day, or until the 
next sufferer comes along, which you fervently 
pray will be very soon. 

Surrounded by a group of ladies and gentle¬ 
men, stood Mrs. Tearle, the most chatty, the 
gayest of them all. She seemed like a sun 
encircled with satelities. Each way she turned, 


A FRIENT) i&C &CEED 73 

it was to meet an admirer, who hung upon her 
words and obeyed her slightest gesture. 

“Look at your mother-in-law, Mrs. Brown, 
said Harwood, who stood with the lady behind 
a bathing house. “You can see without being 
seen. She is all surrounded,” he sang softly. 

“She always is,” said Mrs. Brown, laughing. 
“I could have told you that she would own a 
clique before she had been here long. I am 
going to get into my suit now, run along the 
beach, and dive through the breakers just beyond 
that red post over there. Where will you join 
me?” 

“How long will it take you to dress?” 

“Just seven minutes.” 

“Let me see, what time is it? seven minute? 
to eleven. I will go through the same wave, 
in the same spot, with you.” 

“Very well.” 

“Oh, oh," shrieked a chorus of the poor life 
liners. 

“Oh, oh,” echoed the spectators. “What a big 
wave! and here’s another; and there comes a 
third, larger than the rest. Just look, there is 
a lady going to dive into it. She will never 
get through.” 

Mrs. Brown came running swiftly along the 
beach to the end post. Just as she reached it, 
Harwood joined her on the run. Watching 


74 


'"BEHIND *A MASK 


with practiced eyes their opportunity, with art 
elastic spring, they dove head first into the heart 
of the immense billow. 

‘ That was grand, Harwood,” she cried with 
joy as they reached the surface almost together. 
“Let us try this one?” and down they went. •* 

“Cad,” said a voice close beside her. 

“Oh, how do you do,” she replied brightly. 

“Here is Mr. Tearle, Harwood.” 

“Where did you come from?" he laughed. 

“See Mrs. Brown and Co. take those rollers 
just now. Immense, weren’t they. Hello, here is 
George too. By the way, let us have that race 
we planned yesterday.” 

“Where shall we go?” asked Devine. 

“To the red buoy," said Mrs. Brown. 

“Away we go, then,” exclaimed Tearle. “I 
beat," and he sprang forward in the water like 
an old swimmer. 

“You may beat Devine, but you will not beat 
me,” muttered Harwood plunging after him. 

Mrs. Brown reached the buoy first and grasping 
hold turned about to look for her competitors. 

Harwood was a short distance away, Devine 
behind him, but Tearle was not in sight. 
Hastily pulling herself to the rocky buoy, she 
looked back with a sinking heart over the course 
she had come. But there was to be seen but the 
two heads bobbing before her. 


75 


*A F%IEND IN F^EED 

“Tread water, Harwood, and get your wind,” 
she shouted. “I cannot see Joe; he must have 
sunk. ” 

Just at this moment Tearle’s body came to the 
surface. 

“Help! help!" he called loudly. “Cad, save 
me.” 

“There he is behind you,” she screamed to 
Harwood. “I am coming, Joe,” and with a bound 
she dove into the waves, rising a few yards 
from where he still floated in the water. “Joe, 
Joe, I am here,” she cried. “Oh, do not give 
up. He is sinking. He is gone. Harwood 
help, for God’s sake,” she shrieked, and then 
dove once more down deep, deep into the ocean 
vainly searching for his body. Rising to the 
surface for. air, she found Harwood and Devine 
waiting to render assistance. 

“He went down here,” she gasped almost 
breathlessly, “and I will find him or die,” and 
before either gentlemen could protest against it, 
she had sank again. 

“The tide sets this way," Harwood called. 
“She will come up over here. Ah, there she 
is. Quick! Let us hurry. And she has him 
too, by Jove! Keep up, Mrs. Brown, we are com¬ 
ing,” he called to the brave little creature who 
held her lifeless burden by the back of the 


76 ‘BEHIND *A MASK 

collar with one hand, while with the other she 
kept afloat. 

“There, George,” he said cheerfully, “just give 
Mrs. Brown your shoulder while she rests a mom¬ 
ent, and I will start in with this poor fellow.” 

It was not long, however, before they both 
overtook him and rendered assistance by his lay¬ 
ing his hand on Devine’s shoulder, who swam 
with an extra burden upon him, with all the 
strength of his youth and muscle, while Mrs. 
Brown supported her husband on the other side, 
swimming with her disengaged arm and feet 
better than two-thirds of swimmers do when en¬ 
tirely free. 

In the meantime the accident had been noticed 
on shore, and a boat put out to the rescue, 
which soon met the swimmers and took them in. 

Just before it reached them Harwood turned his 
head, and saw Mrs. Brown holding Tearle’s face 
up and pressing a kiss upon it. 

“Poor Joe," she said softly, "may God forgive 
you as I do." 

Harwood turned hastily away. His eyes were 
dimmed by water—salt, but it was not the salt 
from the ocean. 

When they reached the pier, dozens of out¬ 
stretched arms were ready to receive Tearle’s 
still unconscious form, which was hastily con¬ 
veyed to the hotel and given into the hands of 


A FRIEND /SY 9 &CEED 


77 


the waiting physician, while the three rescuers, 
escaping from the congratulations of the crowd, 
hurried to their respective dressing-rooms. 

After a number of hours of ceaseless working, 
the doctor’s tireless efforts were rewarded by 
a show of returning animation, and soon the 
patient was able to sit up and take the proper 
nourishment, after which he quietly dropped off 
to sleep. 

* * * * * * 

The room was very quiet, the only sound being 
Tearle’s even breathing. The door from the 
porch was quietly opened, and a woman, after 
assuring herself by a hasty glance that it was 
empty, crept softly in, and with noiseless foot¬ 
steps approached the bed, where she leaned 
softly over the sleeping man. 

“Poor Joe!” she whispered gently; "what a 
wreck your life has been made through the evil 
machinations of one whom you are in duty bound, 
obliged to love and honor. God bless you, my 
husband. It were almost better that I should be 
taken away, so that you might at least have 
peace; and were it not for the welfare of one 
dearer to me than all the world beside, I feel 
I should be tempted to remove myself from your 
path. Persecuted and alone, to whom can I 
turn? How can I persuade you that my life is 
pure? And yet I but live in hopes that the 


78 


‘BEHIND MASK 


knowledge will come to you some day of how 
deeply they have .wronged me. Until then I 
must, as always, put my trust in God. Fare¬ 
well;” and bending lower, she placed her soft 
warm lips upon his brow, then turned and hur¬ 
riedly left the room. 

‘‘Cad, darling,” murmured the sleeper drowsily, 
moving restlessly about and half awakening. 
“Kiss me again, I am—” and muttering unintel¬ 
ligibly his head fell back and he slept again. 

“So you steal in like a thief to look in on 
your dastardly work, do you? Are you satisfied? 
Can you bring any more sorrow on that poor 
fellow lying there than you have already done? 
Go, you shameless creature. I would sooner see 
a serpent in my path than your ugly face.” 

Mrs. Brown turned to meet her accuser with 
form drawn up and flashing eyes. 

“You are the shameless creature, Mrs. Tearle. 
Not I. One day, and it is not long hence, I 
shall be vindicated and you punished. You, whose 
heart is dead to all that makes life dear, husband, 
children, honor. You it is who has ruthlessly 
destroyed the happiness of your first born child. 
In your heart you know I speak the truth. You 
cannot deny it.” 

”1 am above talking to a common adultress 
such as yourself,” her enemy hissed out between 
her lips in a venomous manner, which made one 


A FRIEND Wy &QEED 


79 


think of a snake. “If you are not such, why in 
your turn do you not deny it?” 

“I do,” came from the cold proud lips. 

“A simple denial may not convince a jealous 
husband, nor an indignant mother. Mark me 
well, Cad Thornton, if you seek my son’s com¬ 
pany, or receive his attentions in any way what¬ 
soever, I will cause you to be driven from this 
hotel as the vile woman you are.” 

“You cannot threaten me, Mrs. Tearle,” said 
Mrs. Brown calmly, “and fear is something un¬ 
known to me. This is the first time I have 
sought your son’s company, but you may rest 
assured, I would do so each hour in the day were 
my heart so inclined. You forget that although 
you may have succeeded in destroying, to a cer¬ 
tain extent, his faith in me, still you have not 
succeeded in extinguishing one single spark of 
his love, which burns now today even fiercer 
and more devotedly than it did four years ago 
when you came between us. I do not need to 
seek for him. It is he that longs for me, and 
so long as he lives, I will be with him when I 
desire, for just so long, although he may be 
your son, yet remember, he is always my hus¬ 
band," with which she turned abruptly and 
walked proudly away. 

"She speaks the truth,” murmured Mrs. Tearle 
sending a glance of mortal hatred after the 


8o 


'BEHIND <A MASK 


retreating figure; “but I have succeeded once 
and I shall again. If nothing else can avail me, 
I believe I have the heart to kill you. Beware, 
Cad Thornton, you will yet live to rue the 
day when you crossed my desire.” 

* * * * * * * 

“Oh, Mrs. Tearle, Mrs. Tearle! How is your 
son?" called a number of voices, when, bright 
and serene looking she entered the music hall, 
where most of the guests were congregated. 

“He is doing very well," she replied gaily; 
“one would think it was only his usual bath that 
he had been taking, if one could see how nicely 
he appears." 

“What a wonderful escape," said one. “Cramp 
in his legs, was it not?" 

“Yes, do not speak of it. It makes me shud¬ 
der," putting her kerchief to her eyes for a mo¬ 
ment. “I shall never wish to see the water 
again.” 

“Where is the lady who saved his life?" asked 
another. “She has not appeared since she went 
into her dressing room." 

“Why, there was no lady concerned in the 
affair that I saw," said Mrs. Tearle. "Are you 
sure? I knew it was Mr. Devine and Mr. Har¬ 
wood who brought him in, but I did not know 
he owed his life to—" 

"Mrs. Brown," interrupted a cherry voice. 


*A FRIEND IN &CEED 


81 


as Devine’s rosy face appeared in the door. 
“Yes, but he does,” he went on quickly. “She 
missed him first, and—” 

“Oh, Mr. Devine, please tell us all about-it. 
We are dying to hear the whole story,” cried a 
chorous of female voices, crowding about the 
young man. 

“Well, you must know then that the other day 
Mr. Tearle, Mr. Harwood, Mrs. Brown and 
yours truly got up a race to the red buoy and 
back. But that day you all descended on our 
quiet scene in such a swarm that you drove it 
completely from our minds. This morning, 
finding ourselves all together in the surf, some 
one, I think it was Harwood, suggested that we 
carry out our plan. So away we started. Mrs. 
Brown beat. I don’t wonder either, for I have 
never seen anyone, man or woman, get through 
the water as she does. As I was saying, she won, 
and reached the buoy first, then turned around 
to see how far we were behind. Harwood was 
pretty close and I was manfully holding up the 
rear; but Tearle, poor fellow, was gone. Then 
you should have seen her climb that shaky old 
buoy, screaming to Harwood that Tearle was 
drowned. Suddenly she saw his body, and down 
she went, but came up without him. Before we 
could say a word to stop her, in she went again, 
Behind A Mask 6 


8 2 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


and then she got him. So Harwood took hold 
one side and rested on me, while she helped on 
the other; and by Jove, ladies, it was all with¬ 
out exception the very pluckiest piece of busi¬ 
ness I ever saw done. She is a remarkable wo¬ 
man; I never met one like her before. I—” 

"Why, Mr. Devine, you are very much in love 
with the fair creature?” put in Mrs. Tearle sar¬ 
castically. 

"I am afraid I soon shall be,” he replied brave¬ 
ly, "such a scene is enough to turn any man’s 
heart, I vow.” 

"Is she so pretty?” 

"No, not until you know her. Then you see 
her honest soul written straight across her 
features. ” 

"Poor Mr. Devine!” exclaimed Mrs. Tearle 
bravely. "You are to be pitied, I do declare.” 

"Perhaps,” he answered slowly, his face col¬ 
oring. "But when a fellow has the good luck 
to aid a courageous woman like Mrs. Brown in 
saving a man’s life at the risk of her own, and 
you, Mrs. Tearle,” raising his honest blue eyes 
and looking straight into hers, "happen also to 
owe to that same woman the fact of your son’s 
being alive at this moment, I should think that 
both of us, you and I, should bend the knee be¬ 
fore such unexampled nobility. Don’t you?” 

"I suppose we should,” she cried quietly, yet 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


83 


biting her lips to keep back a hasty retort 
which rose to meet the reproach so well merited. 
“Still, please do not let us talk about it any 
more. It wrings my heart with sorrow.” 

“Oh, Ella,” said Mr. Moore leaning over the 
back of Mrs. Tearle’s chair. “Come out in the 
garden in a few moments. I have news for you. 
Are you feeling quite recovered?” he continued 
standing upright. “Dreadful shock for a mother, 
’pon my honor.” 

“Oh, yes; I feel quite right now, thank you. 
Joe’s speedy recovery has almost overcome my 
severe frght.” 

“What is your news?” she asked as they were 
pacing up and down the garden. 

“Mrs. Bolton has just paid me a visit.” 

“And?” 

“Well, of course, it is the same old story. 
Still, for the first time in my life I am afraid 
of her.” 

“Why?” 

“She used a number of peculiar insinuations 
today. She has never dared to before. By 
George, she almost commanded me.” 

“Really!” 

“Indeed she did. It has always been as a sup- 
plicant to my sense of honor that she has here¬ 
tofore appealed. But now she says she will have 
her money every cent of it within six months,” 


8 4 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


"I always told you, Albert, you made a mis¬ 
take in robbing that woman.” 

“I did not rob her.” 

“Oh, yes, you did. She put $50,000.00 into 
your hands to be used in your business. Then 
you failed, giving her back $500.00 in cash and 
a worthless note for thq balance; which by 
some quirk in the law, you shortly declared 
forfeited or something—I don’t pretend to un¬ 
derstand business.” 

“It Was quite legal,” he interrupted quickly. 

“Yes, perhaps; but the fact remained the same 
that you took $45,000 from her.” 

“I got tired of paying her such immense in¬ 
terest for her money—why, she had the whole 
amount back twice over with the high rate 
I paid her.” 

“Yes, but you set the rate of interest yourself, 
remember; you were down then and could not 
borrow a cent from anyone. Your credit was 
entirely gone; and you deceived the poor fool 
into putting her all into your hands.” 

“No one forced her to do it,” he said doggedly. 

“No, of course not. You never use force to ob¬ 
tain anything. You are much too clever to do 
that. She has been hounding you to death for 
the past five years, hasn’t she? ” 

“Yes, six now.” • 

“Well I would pay her and let her go.” 


*A FRIEND IN NEED 


*5 


"What?” he cried loudly. "Pay her $45,000.00? 
Well, Ella,” he said with disgust, "you must 
be losing your mind. Pay her all my hard earned 
money? No, I thank you. I intend to keep it 
myself. ” 

"Compromise then, and give her one half.” 

"Not one cent,” he said emphatically. 

"Then don't come crying to me about your 
troubles,” she exclaimed impatiently. 

"I have no patience with you. If you prefer 
being bothered to death, to paying the woman 
what you owe her, why, then, you are like the 
man who puts his hand in the fire and cries be¬ 
cause he is burnt.” 

"But, Ella,” he said slowly, "suppose she 
makes trouble?” 

"I can't help it if she does. So there, don't 
worry me anymore with the matter. If you will 
not take my advice, what is the use of asking it?” 

"But you have so much cunning, darling, in 
such affairs,” he said soothingly, "and have so 
many times given me such good suggestions, that 
really, I depend on you to get me out of this 
scrape, as well as you have the others.” 

"Well, I will think about it,” she answered, 
flattered by his winning words. "Now I am so 
much put out by that foolish Joe and his good 
for nothing wife, that I can think of nothing 
else. ” 


86 


‘BEHIND *A [MASK 


"Come and take a ride,”he proposed. "I will 
get up a party, and we will probably, both of 
us, feel the better for a jaunt in the open air.” 

"That is a good plan,” she assented. "I will 
go up to the house and ask a number to go with 
us, while you attend to the teams.” 

Running lightly up the steps, she burst into 
the hall crying, "Come, Mr. Devine, we are 
going for. a ride. Help me to get up a party. 
Where is Mr. Harwood?” 

"He was here a moment ago. I'll find him.” 

"Who would like a drive in the old stage?” she 
asked turning to a number of ladies who were 
sitting together. 

"I should like to go for one," spoke up Miss 
Tubbs, a bright, jolly looking girl. 

"And I too,” chimed in Miss Jones, her friend. 

"How many can we take,Mr. Moore?" asked 
Mrs. Tearle turning to that gentleman as he 
entered the door. 

"A bakers’ dozen," he laughed gaily, "six on 
a side and one with the driver.” 

A general scurry for hats and wraps ensued, 
and a laughing party was soon bowling down the 
road towards the woods. 

"My gracious!” called Miss Tubbs from the 
end of the seat, "isn’t this a horse running 
away?” 

"Oh, no,” said Harwood, with a smile, and 


A FRIEND IN NEED 87 

casting a sidelong glance at Devine, “do not be 
alarmed. It is only Mrs. Brown.” 

“My! how she rides. Surely her horse has got 
the bit,” exclaimed Moore. 

“Never, while that woman holds the reins,” 
cried Devine. “Ah, Mrs. Brown, I beat,” he 
cried to the lady as she passed them at a rapid 
canter, to which she bowed, and smiled, and soon 
left them far behind. 

“Well, Mr. Devine. I must say I do not ad¬ 
mire your taste,” exclaimed Mrs. Tearle. “That 
is the very ugliest looking woman I ever saw.” 

"Oh, now, Mrs. Tearle,” cried Harwood quiz¬ 
zically, "I am surprised that you should put 
yourself in such a position.” 

"What do you mean:” 

"One would most surely think you were jeal¬ 
ous of the lady’s appearance.” 

"Ha, ha, very good,” said Moore. “Fancy 
Mrs. Tearle envying that woman her good looks.” 

"Well, I consider Mrs. Tearle quite right in 
envying Mrs. Brown her good looks,” interposed 
Devine quickly. “You may not admire my taste,” 
turning towards the lady, but wait until you 
know her honest worth, and you will think her 
as handsome as I do.” 

"Good for you, George,” chuckled Harwood 
to himself. “Go it; who knows, perhaps, when 
SNi does learn Mrs. Brown a little better, she 


88 


"BEHIND tA MASK 


will have to bend the knee to her magnificence." 

“I wish I could skim over the ground as she 
does,” said Miss Tubbs longingly. “She and 
her horse look as if they were flying. ” 

“Have patience, Miss Tubbs, and I will teach 
you to ride if you will allow me,” said Harwood, 
“nearly as well—I cannot promise as well, for 
few people seem so a part of the horse as she 
does.” 

“What are the plans for this evening?” asked 
Moore. “Dancing?” 

“Probably,” said Devine; “I do not know.” 

“When will you give me my first lesson?” 
asked Miss Tubbs in a low tone. 

“Tomorrow morning, if you like. Have you 
ever ridden any?” 

“Some.” 

“Then it will not be hard for you. Oh! by 
the way, let us get up a picnic and go up into the 
mountains there.” Devine proposed. 

“When, now?” asked Harwood. 

“Of course not; you great—” 

“Blank,” interrupted his friend laughing. 

“That would be a nice way to spend the day.” 
said Mrs. Tearle. 

“When shall we go?” asked Moore. 

“Day after tomorrow, if it is agreeable to 
every one,” she replied looking about her. 

“Perfectly,” they all agreed. 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


89 

"Turn home now, Albert," she whispered. "The 
stage will be in, and Jennie will find no one to 
meet her." 

"That is so," he exclaimed. "You had better 
turn back, driver. Mrs. Tearle has a friend com¬ 
ing this afternoon." 

"Man?” giggled a silly young matron. 

"Unfortunately no," said Mrs. Tearle, "a lady 
—my most intimate friend, who could not start 
with us." 

"Mrs. Stone," exclaimed one of Mrs. Tearle’s 
party. “I am so glad; she is so full of fun." 

"What a whopper you told Mrs. Tearle;" 
thought Harwood, "but I am particularly curious 
to see this lady myself." 

"And, by Jove, there she is," he said to himself 
as they drove up to the steps. 

A short, stout little woman, with sharp, black 
eyes, and hair to match, stood at the top waiting 
for them to come to a stand-still. 

"Oh, Jennie,” cried Mrs. Tearle gaily, "I am so 
glad to see you. Won’t some one help me down?" 
turning a plaintive look upon the gentlemen. 

"Certainly,” cried Harwood bounding forward. 

"Mrs. Stone," cried the satellites enthusiastic¬ 
ally, "it is so nice you have come." 

"We can talk to you after dinner," interrupted 
Mrs. Tearle, turning to the ladies who surrounded 
them. "I want to have her for myse’lf now. 


9 o 


'BEHIND *A MASK 


Come, Jennie, I have engaged the room next to 
mine for you,” and she led her friend away. 

“Oh, what wouldn't I give to be a fly or some¬ 
thing or other for half an hour,” Harwood thought 
as he watched them depart, “two wicked heads 
being put together in order to persecute my poor 
little friend. Apropos, I will go and seek her. 
Let me see what time it is,” consulting his 
watch. “Half-past five. That is all right. I 
can get back in time.” 

“Well, Ella, what is the matter?" asked Mrs. 
Stone after they had reached their room, and had 
sat down to talk. 

“Matter enough,” said Mrs. Tearle crossly/ “it 
is sufficient to drive me crazy.” 

“Tell me what it is. Perhaps I can help you.” 

“In the first place, Cad Thornton is here mas¬ 
querading under the name of Mrs. Brown. M 

“You don’t mean it.” 

“I wish I didn’t,” petulantly, “and it seems,” 
she, went on, “that Joe found her out—” 

“Is Joe here too?” 

“Yes and—” 

“Are they Living together?” 

“No; she won’t live with him.” 

“I should think it would be easy enough to 
spread a report about her.” 

“Yes, it would have been; but the day I arrived, 
all unconscious of any such state of affairs, Joe 


<A FRIEND IN NEED 


9 1 


appeared before me, told me she was here, and 
made me swear that no one should hear, in any 
way, of their relationship.” 

"What did you make such an oath for?” 

‘‘I could not help it. He frightened me to death 
making me think he understood that Albert and 
I are together.” 

"Does he know, do you think? ” 

“Truly, I could not tell you. One can never 
tell anything byliim.” 

“Why don’t you snub her?’ 

“I could have, but she saved his life from drown¬ 
ing this morning. He is not up yet, although he 
has recovered; and how can I do such a thing 
now, when every one saw it?" 

“Why don’t you persuade him to divorce her?” 

“Because, in the first place, he is still in love 
with her—she told me so, too, this morning, the 
impudent thing—and then, where would all her 
money go? She could will it all away from him.” 

“So she could—so she could. How deep you 
are under your laughing, innocent ways,” Mrs. 
Stone exclaimed, looking at her friend with ad¬ 
miration. “Surely you can overmatch her.” 

“So it seems to me, but the woman’s purity 
and virtue seem to encircle her like a cloak 
through which I cannot penetrate.” 

“Well, two of us can.” 


92 


'BEHIND *A MASK 


"What do you propose?” 

"Nothing now. I would rather think over it. 
Layout a campaign, and, if it suits you, we can 
go properly and systematically to work." 

"Very well, we will arrange on it tonight." 


CHAPTER IV 
mother’s love 

Directly at the base of a mountain whose 
green covering spread toward its lofty peak, 
and beside a rustic stream which found its way 
down noisily from the rocky summits above, 
there nestled in among the sheltering elms a 
pretty rustic villa, overgrown with vines and 
roses. The house was of gothic architecture, 
irregular and artistic, with zig-zag windows, and 
a number of little porches opening from them, 
turreted towers which commanded a large stretch 
of the surrounding country, off to the blue ex¬ 
panse of the ocean. The whole lower floor was 
surrounded by a broad roomy veranda, where 
swung a number of hammocks, and a quantity of 
easy wicker chairs was strewn invitingly about. 
A broad, graveled drive led up to the entrance, 
with rustic gardens and green lawns tastefully 
laid out on either side of it. 

At the foot of the broad steps which led up to 
the front door, there stood a lovely, fairy-like 
looking child of about four years of age, with 
wide-open blue eyes and a tangled mass of yel¬ 
low curls, almost hidden beneath her broad 
93 


94 


‘BEHIND MASK 


brimmed hat. A little wagon partly filled with 
stones, and her earnest, eager manner, showed the 
little one was particularly occupied just then, 
and indeed, she was, for a few paces off, a little 
plot of garden was being rapidly and neatly 
fenced in with a diminutive stone wall. A lady 
in a short, black habit reclined easily upon a 
rustic bench beneath a tree near by, watching, 
with loving eyes, the busy little worker. 

“Bernice,” she said softly. “Come to mamma 
a moment." 

Obediently and quickly the little one laid down 
the shovel and ran to the waiting arms. 

“My precious dove,” murmured the affectionate 
mother, drawing her into her lap; “mamma’s 
darling.” 

“Yes, I am mamma’s darling,” answered the 
child confidently, “and mamma’s comfort, too.” 

“How do you know that, dear?” 

“Because Sally says I am, and Sally knows 
everything.” 

“Well, Sally told you right, then, to be sure. 
You are mamma’s dear little comfort. I believe 
she would die if she were to lose you.” 

“And go up to grandpa and grandma with the 
angels?” queried the rosy lips. 

"Yes, dear." 

“And leave our pretty garden and the stream, 
and Caesar, and Royer, and Sally,” coming to 




IMOTHER’S LOVE 


95 


an abrupt pause at the last impending catastrophe 
presented to her imagination. 

“Yes, dear.” 

“Then I would rather stay here,” she answered 
confidently. 

"Oh, you would?” 

“Yes, if you please, mamma." 

“But it is not as mamma pleases, darling, it 
is as God pleases." 

“Then I will ask him to-night, and I know he 
will let us both stay. Don’t you think he will, 
mamma?” 

“I shouldn’t wonder if he did, pet." „ 

“I wish the snow would come again," said 
the child with a longing glance at the mount¬ 
ains above. 

“Why, darling?" 

“Because then you would come and stay with 
me all the time, and it is such fun.” 

“It will come before long, darling, and then 
mamma and her birdie will shut themselves up in 
their nest . 14 

“Oh, mamma, why can’t you come now?" 

“I have been thinking about it, little one, per¬ 
haps I may before long—" 

“Not with my consent," interrupted a deep, 
mellow voice, “and you know, Mrs. Brown, you 
have promised to do just as I say in everything” 

“Qh, Harwood, is that you? Eavesdropping 


9 6 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


again?” she asked laughingly extending a wel¬ 
come hand. 

‘‘Yes, that seems to be my lot lately. I overhear 
every one’s secrets. But honestly, you two were 
so busy I could not make you mind my respect¬ 
ful ‘ahem’ to attract your attention. It was quite 
unintentional. Good afternoon, my little woman. 
Will you come and kiss me now after my ex¬ 
cuses? ” 

‘‘Yes, sir,” said the little one, slipping from 
her mother’s knee, and passing over to the gen¬ 
tleman, with her rosy lips held up for his sa¬ 
lute. 

‘‘You are a dear little witch,” he cried impul¬ 
sively, snatching her up in his arms and putting 
her on his lap, "and I have brought you some¬ 
thing which I am about to give you. But you 
must do something for me in exchange.” 

“No bribing, Harwood,” interrupted Mrs. 
Brown quickly. “Bernice must always do as she 
is requested without expecting a reward.” 

“I beg your majesty’s pardon,” he exclaimed, 
lifting his hat to the little one on his knee, 
“but then it isn’t very-hard. I will unburden 
my soul and tell you all about it. Bernice,” 
he commenced, his voice half grave, half laugh¬ 
ing, “when I was a little boy, I had a mamma, 
just like yours, and I -was her boy, just as you 
are her little girl. By and bye my mamma gave 


(MOTHER'S LOVE 


97 


me a little sister. She looked just like you, 
with long, yellow curls, like these,” lifting up 
a silken tress with a tender hand; “then she 
gave me a little brother. A little while after 
that, my papa died* and then my mamma was 
taken too; but before she went away to heaven, 
she made me promise to always love and take 
care of my little brother and sister. I did try 
very hard to do as she had asked me, but God 
took my little sister for himself. She was so 
sweet and pretty, I do not wonder, and my brother 
—well, my brother grew to be a big man, almost 
as big as I am, and he went away to look out for 
himself. So, you see,” and his voice broke a 
little, “I was left all alone with no one for me 
to look out for and no one to love me. So I want 
to ask you if you will be a little sister to me 
and try to love me as he did, and if you,” turning 
to Mrs. Brown, "will be my big sister, and will 
let me give you an affectionate brothers love and 
protection. Will you agree?” 

"With all my soul, my friend,” murmured Mrs. 
Brown, rising from her seat and crossing to his 
side with her eyes full of tears. 

"What does Bernice say?” he asked with a 
tremor in his voice. 

"Oh, yes,” cried the little girl, throwing her 
Behind A Mask 7 


9 8 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


arms impulsively about his neck, and pressing her 
cheek to his. 

“We answer together, you see,” Cad exclaimed 
laying her hand upon his shoulder, “and we will 
do our best to make you happy. Will we, 
Bernice?” 

“Yes, Mamma,” said the child earnestly. 

“Then at last I may say I have found a home 
just after my own heart." He spoke joyously, 
although his lip still trembled beneath the 
tawny mustache. 

“And you will come in the snow time and live 
with us?” queried the little one innocently. 

“Not quite as bad as that,” he answered smil¬ 
ing, “but then I will come very often—just as 
often as you will let me, Bernice. Now we have 
agreed on the first proposition and you are both 
to be my sisters, I have a favor to ask of you.” 

“Which is?” said Cad. 

“That you will call me Harry and Bernice 
Uncle Harry when we are alone together. My 
mother always said Harry, although my friends 
generally dub me Harold." 

“Can you say it, Bernice?" asked the mother." 

“Of course I can,” she responded promptly 
“Uncle Harwy.” “And you,” glancing up at his. 
friend, who still stood beside him, “what do you 
say?” 

“What else can I say but yes, Harry.” 



{MOTHER'S LOVE 


99 


“What a glorious-spot this is for me to cele¬ 
brate my new possessions in!” he broke forth 
with great joy vibrating in his voice. “I shall 
never forget this hour. The sun making ready 
to prepare for the night, his rays from behind 
the old mountain there already blinking so 
drowsily from over its peak. The quiet hum of 
the birds in the trees and the twinkling sound 
of yon mountain stream making music sweet 
enough to woo a poet’s muse. The dear little 
home so full of love and goodness standing with 
sheltering arms above us, and beyond all, the 
forms of the two beings to whom I shall hence¬ 
forth concentrate my life’s best endeavors, stand¬ 
ing here close beside me, the air still fragrant 
with their vows of affection. God bless you, 
my friend,” lifting her hand and reverently 
placing his lips to its smooth surface, “and 
Heaven keep you, my sweet blossom. Uncle 
Harry will never rest in peace again, never stop 
to think of himself, nor ought beside—aye, he 
will move heaven and earth if needs be, until 
he removes the stain from off this pure sweet 
brow.” Then standing erect, he placed the child 
on his shoulder and followed by the mother, 
went silently through the open door into the 
house. 

An hour later he stood again at the steps 
assisting Mrs. Brown to her saddle. Bernice 


IOO 


‘BEHIND MASK 


stood upon the porch with her nurse, .Sarah, 
a strong, kindly featured woman of middle age, 
close behind her. 

"Good night, pet,” murmured Cad fondly, 
leaning towards the child, whom Sarah raised 
for a farewell kiss. 

"Good night, sweetheart,” said Harwood cheer¬ 
fully, vaulting into his saddle. 

"Good night, Uncle Harwy, God bless-you 
Mamma,” the child said gravely. Then with 
waving, hands, they bounded down the drive. . 

"It is so strange that child will never bid me 
good bye in any other manner,” Cad said as they 
cantered down the road. "I suppose the thought 
rests in her childish brain that her little bene¬ 
diction will keep me perfectly safe until I see 
her again. No one knows what a comfort that 
'Gad bless you Mamma’ is to me,- as it rings in 
my ears throughout the hours I spend away from 
her, nor how it does seem to lighten any bur¬ 
dens I have to carry. ” 

,f I am not surprised," he answered readily; 
"She is, without exception, the loveliest little 
child I ever saw. Bless her pious little soul. 
She will have much to thank her mother for 
when she grows up. Such beautiful thoughts, 
so deeply instilled into her mind and heart, she 
will carry with-her always.” . .. 

"Yes, she is a loving, obedient little darling. 


iMOTHER'S LOVE 


IOI 


and fills my heart with joy unspeakable; 'But oh, 
Harwood, what can I do? How can I allow 
my baby to grow up into - girlhood • wearing a 
blush for her mother’s good name. And again 
it is impossible -for me to keep up this dual 
state of living much longer. It • is already be- 
gining -to -puzzle her, although she says nothing. 
Yet which way to turn, I do not know. " 

“Let me light a cigarette and think,” he said 
shortly. "That’s, better. Now, with-my smoking 
cap on, my fancies-are more* ready for business. 
Proceed.” 

“What a. strange fellow -you- are,” she said 
abruptly. 

“Do you think so? How?” 

“Oh, it doesn’t make any difference to me. 
Fortunately, I understand man’s peculiarities so 
well, that I know how to take him, and that is 
all that is necessary, isn’t it?” 

"Yes.” 

“I should often be- offended' with you if I 
didn’t.” 

“But fortunately you do, so proceed with what 
you were going to say. I am all attention.” 

“It was in -regard to returning to my mountain 
home, and remaining' there. ” 

“That is exactly what I came up here for this 
afternoon. I think differently. After haing spent 
some time in thought on the subject, my opinion 




1 02 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


Is, that it would be best for our interest, if you 
were to make an entire change in your mode of 
life, and become for the time being, anyway, a 
genuine society woman.” 

"Oh, Harwood,” in a tone of disgust, “why?" 

“Well, I will explain: Now, first of all, our 
chief aim is to prove to your husband that you 
have been grossly wronged, eh?" 

“Certainly. ” 

“Then it is necessary to keep him in your com¬ 
pany until that fact is accomplished.” 

“But—” 

“No ‘buts,’ my friend. Now, then, the next 
thing is to succeed.” 

“I should think that that would head the 
list.” 

“Don’t interrupt. You knock my plans all out 
of my head.” 

“Forgive me; I will not make another murmur 
until you are finished. Go on." 

“Very well, then; my idea is this. Mrs. Tearle 
has made an oath to her son that she will pre¬ 
vent your relationship being known. So in that 
respect you are safe. Then again, you have—as 
it has turned out in many ways—very fortunately 
saved his life from drowning, so that she will 
be obliged to treat you with respect, if nothing 
more. Arguments for Mrs. Tearle close. You 
have nothing to fear from that quarter.” 



{MOTHER'S LOVE 


103 


"I wish I hadn't,” with a sigh. “But go on." 

“Mrs. Stone arrived this afternoon to help 
along the case, and will probably do all in her 
power to harrass and persecute you.” 

"She is a cold, hard woman.” 

"You need not tell me that. I have seen her," 
he remarked dryly. "But still I think she can do 
no great harm, because she is bound by the same 
reasons as your delightful mamma-in-law. Now 
lastly, but not leastly, that man Moore is a 
damned rascal." 

"What!’* 

"Yes, I repeat it. A damned rascal, and I do 
not consider myself swearing, either, for it is as 
true as the gospel. This afternoon I met a 
woman with whom I have been acquainted for a’ 
number of years. Her name is Mrs. William 
Bolton.” 

"Mrs. Bolton?” 

"Yes, do you know her?” 

"Slightly—go on.” 

"Well, it appears, Moore has been swindling 
the poor soul out of about forty thousand dol¬ 
lars or more, and she can't get any one to take 
up her case for her. He has actually got hold 
of everything she has, reducing her to almost a 
state of destitution.” 

"The contemptible—” 

"That is what I just remarked," he interrupted. 


io 4 BEHIND *A {MASK 

“After a hasty glance over the affair, I consider 
her cause a good one, and I have promised her 
to— 

“Help her out of her difficulties!” she cried 
enthusiastically. "Just like you, Harry; you’re 
an angel of goodness.” 

"Thank you. Now to total. Mrs. T., Mrs. 
S. and Mr. M., are to a certain extent held 
beneath control while you make the ascent.” 

"Ascent? ” 

“Yes. Don’t you see? If you come into the 
hotel, associate with the guests, make the men 
dangle about you a little, get up a crowd of 
women to follow after you, as they do Mrs. T.— 
in fact, set up a sort of rival establishment to 
her’s, they, your opponents, will begin to cast 
about to find some good hard stones to throw at 
you, and those same missiles will probably con¬ 
tain a clew to the whole affair; and in the end 
I can manage to get to the bottom of it all.” 

“I believe you are right,” she agreed slowly. 

“Of course I am,” he said impatiently. “Or 
can you suggest anything better?” 

“No; I do not think I can. But, ugh! The 
idea of a crowd of females watching everything 
I do—horrible!” 

“Oh, not so bad as you think. I made partic¬ 
ular friends with Miss Tubbs this morning on 
purpose. She appears like a splendid, fresh, go- 


{MOTHER'S LOVE 


io 5 

ahead sort of person. I promised her I would 
teach her how to ride. Now I will get called 
away, and you must be friendly enough with her 
to take my place.” 

“If I could spend my time in my boat or on 
my horse with them, I shouldn’t feel so badly 
about it.” 

“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed opening 
his eyes, “if you exert your fascinations, you 
will have the whole country flooded with armies 
of mermaids, Grace Darlings, and glorious Ama¬ 
zons mounted on dashing steeds. If its just the 
same to you, I would rather you wouldn’t go 
quite so far as that." 

“I will remember and refrain,” she said, laugh¬ 
ing heartily at the picture he drew of her head¬ 
ing such a band of reckless females. “I will 
commence tonight.” 

“One more thing," he exclaimed, his voice 
dropping into a grave, kindly tone, “I am apt to 
be abrupt in my manners, impatient with ob¬ 
stacles when I have laid out my path, and too 
quick to speak if not very readily understood.” 

“Do not mention it, Harry,” she interposed. 
“I thoroughly appreciate how you feel.” 

“Thank you," he replied. “I want you to under¬ 
stand that no matter how I may seem to treat 
you at all times, no matter how cold, unsatis¬ 
factory, perhaps almost insulting it may appear, 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


106 

you will remember that I have made an oath to 
that lovely little child up there in the moun¬ 
tains, who has already taken the place of my own 
little darling, to succeed in this undertaking, 
and that I will keep that promise, even if it 
costs me my life. Remember this, and that I 
shall serve your interests also, because you are 
her mother, an injured wife, and my dear friend. 
You will not forget.” 

“No, I shall not forget,” she murmured, her 
voice choked with emotion. 

“Then away we go. We shall never get home 
at this pace.” 

“Caesar is so much more rapid than Pet, that 
I think, that when we get to the cross roads, I 
will take the mountain path so that you will ar¬ 
rive first. Don’t you think that would be best? 
It would not make me very late.” 

“Yes, by all means,” he answered; and dash¬ 
ing spurs into their horses, they rode rapidly to¬ 
wards the hotel. 

* * * * * 

“Look, Mr. Devine,” said Miss Tubbs as they 
promenaded the hall during a pause between 
dances, “is not that Mrs. Brown coming in?” 

“Where?” he asked, turning to follow his com¬ 
panion’s glance,,, “yes, that is she. Doesn’t she 
look well in that white gown?” 





MOTHER’S LOHE 


to 7 

“Yes, I do not think Mrs. Tearle is at all 
right. She is not ugly to me.” 

“If you knew her,” returned the young fellow im¬ 
pulsively, “you would think she was handsome.” 

“Would I?” with a slight smile. “Then sup¬ 
pose you present me, and give me the opportunity 
of discovering your metamorphosis.” 

“With all my heart,” he replied, leading her 
across the room. “Mrs. Brown," he called as 
they neared the lady. 

“Mr. Devine,” she answered, turning towards 
the couple. 

“Miss Tubbs is anxious to meet the heroine of 
Oceanside, and desires me to ask the favor of a 
presentation. ” 

“I am very happy to meet Miss Tubbs,” she 
replied with a pleasant, cordial smile that lit 
up her plain features in a wonderful manner. 

“And I to meet Mrs. Brown,” returned the" 
young lady. “I have been longing to see you 
ever since Mr. Tearle’s accident. You ran 
away so quickly this morning, that none of us 
got more than a flying glance at you.” 

“I confess I needed a little quiet after such 
a hard swim. Didn’t you, Mr. Devine?” 

“You did more than Harwood and I, you know. 
Probably you felt the strain most, being a 
woman. ” 


BEHIND A MASK 


108 

“By the way,” she inquired, “have you heard 
how Mr. Tearle is?" 

“His mother told me he was up and dressed, 
but in his room,” said Miss Tubbs. 

“I am glad to hear that. Let us find a seat. 
We can talk better then. There is your friend 
looking for you, Mr. Devine. See, over at the 
porch door. I will take good care of Miss 
Tubbs until you return.” 

“Oh! Harold,” he exclaimed. “If you will ex¬ 
cuse me, ladies, I will see what he wants. I 
have not laid eyes on him for three or four 
hours." 

“Have you been long in Oceanside, Mrs. 
Brown?” said Miss Tubbs, when Devine had 
left them. 

“Yes, most of the summer. A lovely spot, isn’t 
it?” 

“Indeed it is. I am perfectly fascinated with 
it. Such a beach and drive; such a lovely hotel; 
in fact, everything is charming about the place.” 

“Have you been over to the mammoth cave 
yet?” 

“No, is it far?" 

“About fifteen miles over the mountains and 
around the cliff. It is grand after a storm. The 
waves dash into its rocky caverns with roars of 
thunder. 

“How lovely it must be. Oh! Bess,"she called 


MOTHER'S LOVE 


109 

suddenly to a pretty girl passing by. "Come 
here. Excuse my lack of formality, Mrs. Brown. 
But I do want Bess to meet you. Miss Jones, 
Mrs. Brown.” 

“Another afflicted;” exclaimed Mrs. Brown 
smiling. "Brown, Jones, or Jones, Brown? 
Which is best?” 

"I don’t know," said the newcomer laughing. 
"I hope some time I shall be able to change it.” 

"I hope so,” she replied, so earnestly that they 
burst out laughing. "Come, sit here with Miss 
Tubbs and myself,” she continued in her pretty, 
genial way, "and let us get acquainted.” 

“Nothing could please me more,” Miss Jones 
replied, taking the seat on the other side of her. 
"Oh, here comes Mrs. Smith. I—’’ 

"What?” cried Mrs. Brown, laughing aloud, 
"Brown, Jones and Smith. Truly, I shall run 
away, if this keeps on.” 

"She is so nice,” put in Miss Tubbs confiden¬ 
tially, "and she told me today she did wish to 
meet you so much, for she liked your face.” 

"Then her wishes shall most certainly be grati¬ 
fied,” she. returned smiling. 

"Well, Jennie Stone, will you look at that,” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Tearle, as she and her friend stood 
in an open doorway. 

"Descended like an avalanche,” said Mrs. 
Stone, 


I 10 


‘BEHIND A McASK 


“And upset all our plans,” put in Mrs. Tearle 
sharply. “Gracious goodness, I never saw such 
a creature. She is always doing just what you 
most wish her not to do.” 

“Well, if she has determined to brave it out, 
we must think up something else.” 

“I suppose so, for drive her away from Joe I 
must, and shall do, if it is a possible thing. 
Now look at her,” she continued disgustedly, 
“this morning every one in the house was actu¬ 
ally asking who she was, and now she sits there 
with a whole swarm of men and women about 
her—queen of all she surveys. I vow, I never 
saw her like before.” 

“Nor I either,” exclaimed Mrs. Stone. “She 
is one of the most fascinating women I ever heard 
of. I often feel I should love her myself, if I 
did not hate her so vehemently.” 

“I presume we shall have to separate now. 
You go your way, and I will go mine, and 
let us see if we cannot draw them away from 
her. ” 

“Mrs. Tearle,” called some ane. 

“Oh, Mr. Harwood,” turning toward that gen¬ 
tleman, who was hurrying after her. “Mrs. Stone, 
Mr. Harwood,” presenting her friend. “What 
can I do for you?” she asked. 

“Dance this lancers with me; they are getting 
it up." 


MOTHER’S LOVE 


hi 


"Then bestow a like favor on me, Mrs. Stowe,” 
requested Mr. Moore, joining them. 

"Did you say you knew Mrs. Brown very 
well?” Mrs. Tearle inquired, when they were 
moving towards the forming couples. 

"Simply as a hotel acquaintance. Why?” 

“I thought by what I have heard, that the 
lady kept herself very much alone. But I must 
have been mistaken, for she appears to be on 
the best of terms possible with half the hotel 
this evening.” 

"No accounting for tastes, you know,” he re¬ 
plied indifferently. 

"Then you are not one of the attracted. I am 
so glad, for do you know, Mr. Harwood,” sink¬ 
ing to a confidential tone, "although I am, of 
course,very, very grateful for her act in regard to 
my son, still I must confess to have taken a most 
unaccountable dislike to the woman. Can you 
imagine a reason?" 

' "I am sure I can not,” he returned. 

"And I can’t understand it," she went on. "I 
feel so ashamed about it. I have not even met 
her yet, and I shall certainly have to thank her 
for the part she took in assisting you and Mr. 
Devine, and I would rather cut my tongue out.” 

"Believe my soul you would,” he chuckled in¬ 
wardly. 


I 12 


c BEHIND A MASK 


“Do you know anything about her past his¬ 
tory?” she inquired again after a short pause. 

“Nothing at all.” 

“Well, it seems queer to me that she should 
be here all alone.” 

"Oh, she will not be that long,” he interposed. 
“I heard today her friend was going to return 
again." 

“Her friend?" raising her eyebrows, “a man?” 

“No, a woman. John told me." 

“Who, is John?” 

“Mr. Hill, the proprietor.” 

“What is her name; can’t you remember?” 

“Oh, yes, I recollect now. It is Mrs. Bolton.” 

"Mrs. Bolton!” she cried, standing still. “Mrs. 
Bolton?” 

“Yes, that was the name. Do you know her?” 

“No—yes—that is—I—I believe—I have met a 
Mrs. Bolton,” she stammered, exerting all her 
powers to regain the self command which she 
had almost lost. 

“That was right on the head," he smiled to 
himself, "you might find out through that lady, 
if you know her, about Mrs. Brown. Oh, here 
we are, ” as the music struck up. 

“I suppose I shall find a whole school of mer¬ 
maids diving through the breakers tomorrow 
morning," he whispered in Cad’s ear as they 
balanced corners. 


MOTHER’S LOVE 


Ix 3 

"Perhaps you will," she answered quickly; "but 
I am floating in your Tubbs just now." 

“Do you know when Mrs. Bolton is expected, 
Mr. Harwood?” Mrs. Tearle asked as they walked 
away to a seat. 

"No, I am sorry to say I do not.” 

"Do you know anything about the lady?" 

"Absolutely nothing, excepting that she is a 
friend of Mrs. Brown, and is coming to stay with 
her. ” 

"Great Heavens!" she cried suddenly. "Look 
at Joe.” 

"On the way to Mrs. Brown," he thought. 
"She does not see him. Oh, Lord, there will be 
a scene now," and he stood with his companion 
watching with breathless interest the meeting be¬ 
tween the two so strangely situated. 

Tearle's face looked very white beneath the 
black, curly hair, and the dark circles under his 
eyes were evident traces of his late struggle 
with the grim destroyer. He was walking slowly 
but firmly across the room to where his wife 
stood surrounded by a group of laughing guests 
all unaware of his presence. 

"She saw him then," said Harwood to himself 
as, with an upward flicker of her eye lashes, a 
gleam of red shot across Cad's face, and dying 
away, left it slightly paler than before. 

Behind A Mask 8 


BEHIND *A MASK 


IX 4 

A number of ladies noticed him on his way 
to his preserver, and shrank slightly back to give 
him a passage. Suddenly raising her eyes, Mrs. 
Brown took in the whole situation with a glance, 
and with a quick move, walked a step forward 
to meet him, stretching forth her hand to greet 
him. 

“Now is my opportunity, M muttered Mrs. 
Tearle to herself and hurried from Harwood’s 
side before he could make a move to prevent it. 

She approached rapidly and laying her hand 
on her son’s arm, exclaimed with the most 
touching smile: 

> “Joe, my son, I have only been waiting for this 
opportunity to offer itself in order that you, in 
person, might present me to your brave preserver. 
Will you give me the pleasure?” 

“Most certainly,” he answered turning cour¬ 
teously toward his mother. “Mrs. Brown, my 
mother is most desirous of the honor of your 
acquaintance, that she may thank you in person 
for your act of courage, to which she owes her 
son’s life.” 

“What name, please?” lisped Mrs. Tearle. 

“I said Mrs. Brown.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Brown,” she repeated, lingering 
slowly over the word and throwing such a pecul¬ 
iar intonation into her voice, that a number 
who had been drawn near by her act in publicly 


MOTHER S LOVE 


”5 


thanking the lady, to listen to what she might 
say, opened their eyes with expressions of 
wonder. Harwood felt the blood rush to his 
face, fearing that a betrayal of the relationship 
might result, but Tearle’s countenance was 
absolutely blank, and Cad’s eyes never left 
those of her mother-in-law. 

“I understood,” the lady continued after a 
short pause, “that I owed my gratitude to Mr. 
Harwood and his friend, but Mr. Devine has 
very modestly shifted the brave act onto your 
shoulders, disclaiming all credit in the affair, 
either for himself or his companion. How 
}'ou managed to perform such a feat, almost 
unaided, I am at a loss to conjecture; but as I 
was so wild with fear and anxiety on the beach, 
that I could hardly bring myself to realize the 
awful danger Mr. Tearle was in, and, as therefore 
I must take the evidence of the ones on the 
spot, allow me to offer you my deepest gratitude. 
You must have performed a most wonderful 
action.” 

Silence fell upon the listening group as she 
finished her little speech, in which such a vein 
of absolute disbelief in Mrs. Brown’s intrepidity 
was so cleverly portrayed, which Cad broke by 
saying in her clear sweet voice: 

“Truly, Mrs. Tearle, you and Mr. Devine over¬ 

whelm me with your compliments. You with 


‘BEHIND <A MASK 


116 

praise, Mr. Devine with magnanimity. I can 
only say that my long experience as a swimmer 
would have availed me little, had I not had the 
assistance o-f the two gentlemen; and I assure 
you, your gratitude is due them much more than 
it is to me. My service in comparison was—” 

"Oh! I say, now, Mrs. Brown,” interrupted 
Devine quickly stepping forward, "by Jove, you 
are not—” 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Devine,” she 
stopped him abruptly, "from Mrs. Tearle’s re¬ 
mark, I find you have already done more than 
even your delicate modesty required, and must 
repeat, that to you and Mr. Harwood, she should 
rightly return her thanks, not to me.” 

"I would like to say,” Tearle put in slowly, 
"that although I am deeply grateful to all three 
of my rescuers, I am well aware that it was you 
who dove three times into the water, until you 
recovered my body and brought me to the sur¬ 
face. While I cannot but express my gratitude to 
your noble assistants, still I shall always feel 
that it is to your indomitable courage that I 
owe my life. I do not, shall not, attempt to 
thank you. Such an endeavor, it seems to me, 
would be as an insult to an action filled with 
such self-sacrifice in nobility.” 

"Please say no more about it,” exclaimed his 
wife, over whose face the color had been alter- 


MOTHER'S LOVE 


117 


nateiy coming and going. “You all seem in¬ 
clined to overrate my simple action. I would 
much rather not hear any more about it. Won’t 
some one help me?” she asked plaintively. “I 
feel like a criminal in the dock. Come, Mr. 
Devine, you have been trying to be of so much 
benefit to me—can’t you propose the way out 
of this difficulty?” 

“Certainly, I can,” he responded. “Give me 
the pleasure of a dance, and I will take you 
away where you can hear nothing more, excepting 
from me.” 

The music struck up, and the group separated. 
But throughout the evening, wherever she occu¬ 
pied a seat, it was surrounded by a cluster of 
ladies and gentlemen drawn together by her 
quick wit and ready answers. She may not have 
been a pretty woman—she very decidedly was 
not, yet she had what most pretty women have 
a sad lack of—the power of fascination, of draw¬ 
ing attention by a quick brain, a ready judgment 
of human nature, and a cultivated, cultured mind. 

One may look at and admire a beautiful work 
of art, either in painting or in sculpture, but 
can one talk to the beauty represented in paint 
and marble? When one has looked one’s fill, is 
there aught but the picture to take away? Is 
there a pleasant word?—a humorous saying ring¬ 
ing in the brain? Is there a sense as of some 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


118 

personal conceit vainly sought to be well hidden, 
having been delicately flattered; a sense of the 
divine or the ridiculous having been cleverly 
touched? And yet, one will hear the remark 
so often, what do you see to admire in that ugly 
creature? To which the only reply that can 
be made is, “I see nothing, but I hear volumes. 
Try for yourself. If she had what you term 
beauty, she would be spoiled. It would be too 
much to be centered in one person. The charm 
would be gone. I prefer an hour of her society 
to a week with the most famous beauty that you 
could produce. 

******** 

Come in,” called Mrs. Brown, hearing a gentle 
knock on the door. “Oh! good morning, Miss 
Tubbs, how fresh and sweet you look this morn¬ 
ing. Have a chair here by this window, the 
view is very fine from here.” 

“Oh! isn’t it?” exclaimed the young girl, as 
she took the seat which her hostess pushed for¬ 
ward for her. “What lovely rooms you have. 
So comfortable and cool.” 

“Yes, I have had them for so many summers, 
that they seem a home to me now. All the 
furniture, bric-a-brac, and so forth is mine. I 
had the choice of all the rooms in the house, 
and this lovely view proved a fascination I 


MOTHER'S LOHE 


**9 


could not resist. I am never weary of watching 
the water, and here I have the mountains too, 
with the lovely shadows falling across them. 
So I just coil myself up with my books and 
birds, and feel perfectly content.” 

"What a charming picture you draw. I am 
fond of reading, too." 

"Are you? Well, this is my library. Step 
over and see it," and drawing the curtains, she 
showed three book-cases filled with all kinds of 
literature from "Burton’s Anatomy of Melan¬ 
choly" to the light novels of the day. 

"What a collection!" Miss Tubbs ejaculated, 
running her eyes simply over the titles. 

"If you wish one at any time, come and help 
yourself. I give you carte blanche ." 

"Oh, thank you Mrs. Brown. You are very good. 
You may be sure I will avail myself of your 
kind offer very soon." 

"You are quite welcome." 

"I came to ask a favor of you," the girl began 
hesitatingly, "and I hardly know how to say 
it." 

"Well?" 

"Indeed, I do not know how to begin." 

"That should not trouble you," Cad replied 
with an encouraging smile, "begin at the be- 
gining a9 most things do." 


120 


‘BEHIND iMASK 


"Well, yesterday Mr. Harwood offered to 
teach me"— 

"How to ride?" she interrupted. "So he told 
me, and now as he has gone off and left you in 
the lurch, you wish to ask me to take his 
place." 

"Oh, will you, Mrs. Brown?" 

"Certainly, I will. Mr. Harwood told me last 
evening he would be obliged to go away, and 
that he felt disappointed because he had agreed 
to give you a riding lesson this morning, so I 
told him I would offer you my services if you 
would accept them; but you see you have saved 
me the trouble." 

"How good you are!" 

"Not at all. You can ride some, can't you?" 

"Oh! yes."' 

"Well, would you like to go now before the 
sun gets too hot?" 

"It is just as you wish." 

"Very well. I will order the horses, and you 
runaway and get your habit on. "Oh! would 
you like Miss Jones to go with us?" 

■> "Yes, but—” she hesitated. 

"Well?" 

"She has no habit." 

"That is easily remedied." I ,will loan her a 
skirt of mine, and a tight fitting basque will 
finish the suit. So go and send her to me." 


MOTHER'S LOVE 


121 


“But the horses—” she began. 

“I have five in the stable. There, there,” as 
the girl stood still, her face blushing with 
pleasure. “Hurry up, we will miss the best 
part of the morning, if you stop to argue about 
it.” 

“May I kiss you, Mrs. Brown?” she burst 
forth suddenly, "you are so kind.” 

With a laughing caress and a gentle push, she 
bade her hasten once more, and then turning to 
her chiffoniere, looked up the required skirt. 

“Where have you three ladies been?” asked 
Devine, running down the steps to assist them 
to alight from their horses as' they drew rein 
before the door. 

“Oh such a lovely ride,” cried Miss Tubbs 
enthusiastically. “Oh, Mamma, it was charming,” 
she said, when she had reached the group of 
ladies on the porch, with whom was her mother. 

“Yes?” said Mrs. Tubbs. 

“I am glad you enjoyed it. And you, Bess, 
did you have a pleasant time, too?” 

“Indeed I did,” she responded readily. I 
never enjoyed such a gallop before.” 

“Mrs. Brown has been giving you a lesson, has 
she not?” inquired Devine. 

“Yes, she took Mr. Harwood’s place,” said 
Miss Tubbs. “He was obliged to go over to 


‘BEHIND cA MASK 


l22 

Littletown, and so she kindly volunteered and 
loaned us her horses, too." 

"I presume you think you could even mount 
Caesar now, do you not?" she asked quizzically. 

"Well, it would not take much practice to 
enable them to do so," put in Cad warmly. 
"My pupils proved exceedingly apt. Come girls," 
turning to address her companions, "my lessons 
are not yet over, I believe. How about the 
breakers? " 

"Oh, yes," cried Miss Tubbs, “come to the 
beach. It is the time anyway,and Mrs. Brown is 
going to teach us to dive. Come and see us, 
Mamma." 

"Good morning, Mrs. Brown," said Mrs. Tearle 
sweetly as she joined the party. "My friend Mrs. 
Stone, Mrs. Brown. What a vigorous person you 
are," she continued after both the ladies had 
acknowledged the introduction. "What peculiar 
sports for a woman to be so fond of. Riding, 
swimming, and Joe was telling me that you are 
the best billiard player in the house." 

"Yes, they are queer pastimes for most women," 
Cad acknowledged frankly, "but then I think I 
owe my good health to my being so much in the 
open air." 

"Yes, your skin shows how much time you 
must spend out of doors.” 

"Well, for my part," interrupted a deep man* 


MOTHER'$ LOVE 


12% 

ly voice, "I like to see a healthy complexion on 
a woman, even if it does mean a coat of tan and 
a few freckles.” 

"Innumerable coats of tan and a whole host of 
freckles, you should say, Mr. Tearle,” said Cad, 
turning about to greet him. "But then, hand¬ 
some is as handsome does, you know.” 

"Come, Mrs. Brown,” and Miss Tubbs linked 
her arm in hers, "you shall not stand here to be 
so picked to pieces. Come up and change your 
dress so we can go down to the water.” 

"Very well; we will see you all later on, I 
hope. Remember, Mrs. Tearle,” turning on that 
lady suddenly, "health is always a much greater 
blessing than beauty—I mean health in mind and 
body. One owns the world with that.” 

"What a queer woman she is,” said Mrs. 
Stone, when they were beyond hearing. "She 
strikes me as being so strange.” 

"And she does me also,” added Mrs. Tearle. 
"Can any of you ladies tell me who she is?” sink¬ 
ing into a confidential tone. 

"I can. Mother,” exclaimed her son, interrupt¬ 
ing his conversation with Devine, "she is one of 
the bravest women in the world.” 

"And seemingly very good and kind,” said Mrs. 
Tubbs. 

"I must really cultivate her acquaintance, ” said 
Mrs. Tearle spitefully. "Every one seems so 


124 


‘BEHIND *4 MASK 


fascinated by her, and although they all say she 
has done so much, she has struck me as so posi¬ 
tively ugly as to be repulsive. I have not felt 
equal to approaching her closely as yet.” 

“What! with her eyes, repulsive?” exclaimed 
Devine. 

"Oh, you have already confessed yourself in 
love, Mr. Devine,” she turned on him quickly, 
"so the old adage would fit you in this case.” 

"You are saying too much,” whispered Mrs. 
Stone warningly. 

"But there," she cried, "truly I mean to find 
out what you all see to love in her. I must con¬ 
fess her bravery calls for admiration. Shall we 
go to the beach now?" 

"Do you ever go off the spring-board, Mrs. 
Brown?" asked Miss Jones, when they had 
reached the raft. 

"Oh, yes, always. You can also, if you like. 
It is an easy thing to do. You both swim so well 
that all you need is confidence.” 

"Well, you go off first, and let us see how you 
do it, and then perhaps we will try,” said Miss 
Tubbs, as she jumped up and down to keep her 
teeth from chattering. 

"Well, good-bye," and laughingly climbed the 
ladder to the platform above. Then walked out 
on the board> and giving a few springs, flew in- 


MOTHER’S LOVE 


I2 5 


to the air, turned a summersault and disappeared 
beneath the waves. 

"Oh!” cried the girls together. "Weren’t you 
afraid?” they asked when she reached the raft 
again. 

"Afraid? No, of course not. Come, Miss 
Jones, you must go off the slide now. I will wait 
for you down here in the water. ” 

"You will see I come up all right? she asked 
slowly, as if gathering her courage together. 

"Yes.” 

"Then I will,” she said determinedly. 

"Oh, Bess, if you do it right, I believe I will 
try too,” said Miss Tubbs 

"Now, put your arms straight out before you, 
just as you do when you dive, hold your head 
down and your body stiff and let yourself go,” 
ordered Mrs. Brown beneath her. "I will watch 
you. Do not be afraid. Now; one, two, three 
-go!” 

"My! I thought I would never come up 
again,” cried the girl, as she felt Cad’s hand on 
her shoulder. "But isn’t it splendid? Try it, 
Lucy, and then I want to do it again.” 

"Such an easy thing if one is only not afraid,” 
they both agreed when they had performed the 
feat over and over again. 

“Suppose we go in now, if you are rested,” their 


126 


‘BEHIND MASK 


patient teacher proposed. "It must be lunch 
time. At any rate, I feel hungry enough.” 

"So you have been surrounded all day," said 
Harwood, as they sat together alone toward the 
close of the evening. 

"Yes, and I confess to feeling better for it." 

"Nice girls, Miss Tubbs and Miss Jones?" 

"Exceedingly nice," she agreed, "as sweet and 
amiable as they can be, and I find Mrs. Smith 
very pleasant also." 

"How do you like the rest of them?" 

"They are all very kind. Oh, I had such a 
time getting away to make my call on my cherub. 
She was so lonesome and missed me so much. 
It grieves me dreadfully to take any time from 
her, dear little sweetheart." 

"You can make it up by and bye," he said cheer¬ 
fully. "I feel sure we will come out right in 
the end." 

"God grant it may be so, Harwood," she an¬ 
swered slowly. 

"You must not doubt it,"he cried, "you forget 
that a faint heart means a poor cause." 

"And you forget how long I have borne my 
troubles," she answered softly. "Still, I remem¬ 
ber that it is to you that I owe a break in the 
clouds which shows me a hope of happiness in 
the future for which I had never dreamed. Anci 



MOTHER'S LOVE 


127 


it does all seem to be turning our way, doesn’t 
it?” 

"Indeed it does,” he responded. "You looked 
tired when I came up. Don’t you think you had 
better retire? Only have patience, and you will 
see that that little angel’s 'God bess you mamma,’ 
is to mean a world of happiness ere long. Good 
night, and pleasant dreams.” 

"They are growing more pleasant,” she returned 
smiling, "I hardly dare tell you whatapicture 
they present to me. It is fast becoming an over¬ 
whelming delight to give myself up to the joy of 
allowing my thoughts to wander in dreamland. 
Good night.” 


CHAPTER V 


A STRANGE MEETING 

“Here it is weeks since we arrived il* this 
place, and it honestly seems as if we had not 
gained an inch; ” and Mrs. Tcarle sank down 
onto a seat, lifting a glass of iced punch to her 
lips. “What we have gained has been invari¬ 
ably counter-balanced by what we have lost.” 
s “And still I do not lose heart,” said Mrs. 
Stone, glancing up from a piece of fancy work 
she was busy with. “What was Harwood saying 
to you last evening so particularly?” 

“Harwood is a foolish fellow,” her friend re¬ 
turned with a modest blush. “However, he is 
very nice.” 

“Oh, it is plain enough to see that he is head 
over heels in love with you. I like him too, so 
gentlemanly and thoughtful." 

“Yes, and for a wonder, he is not smitten with 
the everlasting epidemic of Mrs. Brown. It is 
Mrs. Brown here and Mrs. Brown there, until I 
do declare I do not want to hear the name 
Brown again as long as I live.” 

“Your wish will probably go ungratified,” said 
her friend smiling. 


12$ 


129 


# *A S7%ANGE MEETING 

“Wasn’t she cute to hide herself under such a 
pseudonym? Oh, dear, sometimes the woman 
strikes me as being almost supernatural. She is 
so clever, it seems simply impossible to gain 
advantage over her in any way.’* 

“I thought you told me when I first came that 
Mrs. Bolton was coming down here to stay 
with her?” 

“I did. I heard she was coming, but she has 
not put in her appearance.” 

“Has Albert heard from her?” 

“Oh, yes, and he is in such a bother. You know 
he and Mrs. Bolton had some trouble about 
money matters. Well, it seems now that some 
Quixotic sort of a fellow has taken her case up 
for her, and promises to make a dreadful lot of 
trouble for him. He is worried most to death 
about it, poor fellow.” 

“Well, there are some things,” said Mrs. Stone 
earnestly, “that I would be afraid to do, and 
one is to cheat or defraud a widow. Harm or 
misfortune is sure to come to those who do, 
some time.” 

“Tell that to Albert, please, ” said Mrs. Tearle 
with a humorous smile. “I think he would go 
into a spasm at once. He is such a natural 
gambler, you know. First it is stocks, arid 
then it is real estate; booming some unknown 
Be hind A Mask 9 


I 3 0 


*;BEHIND *A MASK 


place away out on the plains, out of which he 
generally gets a pot of money from the poor 
fools who believe in his millions in it. You 
know how fearfully superstitious speculators 
are, and he is worse than the general rule, if 
possible. How he would fidget and fume if you 
would only tell him what you think." 

"It is not what I think," replied Mrs. Stone, 
"It is what I believe. I have seen it so often 
too. I shouldn’t wonder if he lost every cent 
he had some day." 

"Gracious! Jennie, you are enough to give one 
the blues. Let us talk of something else." 

"Mrs. Brown?" said Mrs. Stone laughing. 

"Yes, like all the rest we get back to the mag¬ 
net, no matter how far away we may wander. 
Where is she?" 

"Gone for that mysterious ride she takes so 
regularly. I will perish of curiosity if I do not 
discover the meaning of it before long.’ 

"And I also. Just to think, we cannot catch 
her. That horse of her’s goes so like the wind,that 
it would take a locomotive to follow her, and 
all our spying has been of no use." 

“It is a pity that she locks her effects up so 
closely that it is impossible to get into her 
rooms." 

"Well, what, troubles me most is Joe. He is 
so in love with her that everyone speaks of it. 




A STRANGE [MEETING 


131 

Acts like her slave. Runs at her slightest wish, 
and dangles so closely behind her heels, that it 
seems as if I would go crazy. Every time I 
manage to create a feeling against her, in he 
steps, and undoes it.” 

"It is a shame," admitted her friend. "Some¬ 
how she seems so surrounded, that every shot we 
throw out bounds back at us.” 

"Harwood hates her. He told me last night he 
did not think she was what she represented 
herself to be.” 

"Did he? That's a victory, for he is very 
popular. ” 

"Yes, but he's in love with me, and he knows 
I hate her, he is apt to express himself strongly 
in order to please me. What a noise that is!” 
she exclaimed. "I wonder who it is?” arising 
and approaching the window. "I thought you 
said she went off alone.” 

“I did. I saw her go.” 

"Well, she has come back, and with a party 
now. Devine, Miss Tubbs, Mrs. Smith & Co. I 
wonder where they met her. Just listen to her," 
she cried, as the clear, sweet voice rose above 
the others coming through the hall. "There, 
now they laugh. She has probably made one of 
her quick speeches. Dear me, dear me, it is 
enough to turn my hair white. Look at me,” 
standing before her friend and lowering her face. 


132 


‘BEHIND c A MASK 


"Do you see this, and this, and this? Wrin¬ 
kles, actually wrinkles. Never was a mark 
before. Isn’t it enough to try me? My temper 
is so uncertain too, and I do not seem to attract 
the attention I have always done before. I feel 
all the time as if I wanted to sit down and watch 
her, until I could catch her sleeping, and then—" 
she paused, her eyes half closed, and her face 
drawn and, for a moment, worn and old, “and 
then I think I could almost kill her,” she finished 
slowly. 

"Poor Ella,” said her friend pityingly. “She 
has been a sad trial for you. I do not blame you 
one bit, for she has crossed your path in every¬ 
thing you have undertaken since you first met 
her. I should feel just as you do. But then 
you must control yourself. She is not worth giv¬ 
ing up your beauty for, you know. And besides, 
you will worry yourself into sickness. You 
know appearances will be all against her if you 
would wish to expose her.” 

"You are right,” answered Mrs. Tearle, "and 
I will not allow myself to get so excited and 
worried. It will ruin my looks. Who is there? ” she 
cried at a hurried tap on the door. 

"I," said Moore’s voice. "Let me in quick." 
“Open the door, Jennie. Let me in quick.” 
“What is the matter now?” 


A STRzANGE MEETING 133 

*'I have seen Mrs. Bolton!” he exclaimed 
sinking into a seat, 

"Seen Mrs. Bolton?” they repeated together. 

"Well, what if you have?” said Mrs. Tearle 
breaking a silence which fell upon them. ‘‘You 
have seen her often enough before, I should think, 
not to cause such a commotion now.” 

“Yes, but here," he cried, stamping his foot. 

“Here?” she exclaimed petulently. “Well, 
haven't you been expecting her here for the past 
three or four weeks? If you have anything to 
tell us, please tell us, and don’t stand like a—” 

"Ella is bothered,” interrupted Mrs. Stone, 
"you must not excite her any more.” 

"I am dreadfully so. But tell us where you 
have been, and what the matter is. And forgive 
me, Albert,” rising and going qucikly behind 
him, then turning back his head to press a 
kiss upon his lips. “My nerves are all un¬ 
strung to-day.” 

"I am sorry,” said he, his face smoothing out, 
for her quick words had made him turn his head 
in anger. "I did not think." 

“Well, tell us about it.” 

“I started off to-day,” he began, “determined 
to find out where Mrs. Brown spends her after¬ 
noons, and as I had previously followed the road 
behind her, I rode a number of miles away from 
here, and hid myself in the woods, waiting for her 


134 


BEHIND *A MASK 


appearance. Along she came at her break neck 
pace, and hardly before I saw her, was gone. 
I was just about to start in pursuit when I heard 
voices, and quickly dismounting, crept into the 
woods again, just as a lady with a little child 
rounded a bend in the road. The familiar voice 
arrested my attention, and who should it be but 
Mrs. Bolton. They passed by without seeing 
me, appearing to be in great haste. The child 
kept saying, ‘We shall miss her Mrs. Bolton. 
Oh, do hurry.’ When they had gone, I stepped 
from my shelter and almost run into Harwood, 
who was trotting slowly down the road. He looked 
queerly at me at first, but when I told him 
I had been wandering in the woods, he said it 
was a habit of his also. I got rid of him as 
soon as I could and came away. Now, what 
I would like to know is, with whom is Mrs. 
Bolton visiting, and why has she kept herself so 
close. Mark my words, her presence means 
trouble for all of us." 

"An avenging Nemesis,” said Mr. Stone soto 
voice . 

"Never mind, Albert,” said Mrs. Tearle, who 
had listened attentively to his account. "You are 
too anxious and imagine too much. Wait until 
tomorrow, and we will all three of us take a 
ride and see if we can’t find some traces of her. 
Probably she is not able to do you any harm any 


STRANGE MEETING 


*35 


way. You had better go now. We must dress 
for the evening. I will talk more about it to 
you later on. I am so tired tonight; it has 
been such a frightfully hot day, that to tell the 
truth, I do not feel equal to discussing the 
matter with you. But I am glad you have told 
me, so I could think about it.” 

"I am sorry you do not feel well,” he replied, 
"is there anything I can do for you?” 

“Nothing; thank you." 

“Then I will go. I never felt so nervous my¬ 
self in all my life. It must be the atmosphere,” 
he complained. “I cannot account for it in any 
other way.” 

"An avenging Nemesis,” murmured Mrs. Stone 
again to herself, as she also took her way to her 
room. “I would be more afraid than he is. It 
is bound to come," shaking her head propheti¬ 
cally. 

“I call it a perfect shame, an outrageous 
shame, Mrs. Brown, that horrid Mrs. Tearle 
cannot leave you alone,” Miss Tubbs announced 
in an indignant tone as she stood drumming an 
impatient tattoo on the window of her friend’s 
room. “She never allows an opportunity to go 
by without giving you a sarcastic hit, and I 
know she insinuates all sorts of horrid things 
when you are away, for mamma told me so. 


136 


c BEHIND *A MASK 


What do you think is the reason?" turning 
about to watch the deft fingers which were pil¬ 
ing the masses of tawny hair upon the well set 
head. 

"Couldn’t tell you, I am sure," came in a care¬ 
less tone, as she searched for a hair-pin on the 
case before her. 

"You make me as vexed as she does," the girl 
complained. You never seem to mind her 
speeches at all, when they positively set my 
blood to boiling." 

"You will lose your pretty complexion if you 
fill your face with ugly wrinkles," was the 
answer. 

"Wrinkles?" in a tone of disgust. "What do 
I care for wrinkles or anything else, when one 
I love so well as I do you, is being constantly 
attacked, abused and maligned as you are; and 
you never give me any satisfaction. Every time 
I say a word, you turn it off just like that." 
Once more the tattoo began with a vehemence 
that threatened the destruction of the glass. 

"Lucy, my dear, come away from that window 
and don’t bother that little head of yours with 
something you can neither understand nor pre¬ 
vent. Do you know where Bess is?" 

"In her room," in a sulky voice. 

"Poor little- Bess. I am very fond of that 
child." 


STRANGE MEETING 


i37 


“Yes, a great deal more so than you are of 
me,” petulently. 

“Lucy!” 

“Oh, I don’t mean that,” she burst out. 
“Really, I don’t. I love Bess with all my heart. 
Her troubles have made her so dear to me. 
No father, nor mother, nor any one to call her 
own, and hardly any pleasures until she came 
here and met you. We do all we can for her 
because mamma was so fond of her mother, but 
then you know there’s such a stack of us, it 
takes a fortune to keep us all going decently. 
You have been so kind to her. Mamma says she 
never saw anything like it. She says it shows 
you have such a good heart.” 

“Not necessarily a good heart, Lucy, but 
truly a sympathetic one. I am just like Bess, 
you know. I haven’t any one either.” 

“No one?” 

"I spoke too hastily. Yes, I have one in 
whom my whole soul is absorbed, but who is 
separated by circumstances, almost entirely 
from me. So, you see, practically, I am almost 
as bad off as she is.” 

“Well I don’t see how I could get along if I 
didn’t have papa, mamma, the boys and the little 
ones to surround me. You and Bess must miss 
it awfully.” 


i 3 8 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“We do, don’t we, Bess? ” as the door opened 
in answer to her invitation. 

“I suppose we do, if you say so,” replied the 
young girl, an affectionate look shining in her 
brown eyes as they rested on Mrs. Brown. Bess 
was such a sweet, pretty, modest creature with 
her waving brown hair, regular features and slim, 
graceful young figure—there was something 
about her that appealed insensibly to your pro¬ 
tection. “She aways makes me think of a vio¬ 
let," Cad had said to Harwood when she told 
him her sad story. “I want to lay her head upon 
my bosom, put my arms about her, and keep 
every care and trouble away from her.” 

She had given her so generously and delicately 
through the medium of the Tubbs, that the girl 
had objected forcibly to receiving so much from 
a source which she knew was unable to perform 
such acts of generosity; and then the secret 
came out, and Mrs. Brown had immediately 
stilled her objections and taken her so completely 
to her heart, that she had been obliged to accept 
what seemed to come not from a charity, but from 
an affection which brought worlds of light into 
the darkness of her sorrowful life. Lucy Tubbs 
was self-reliant and independent, one of those 
girls who hold their heads erect and seem in 
their youthful-vanity and strength to expect 
the world to lie out flat before them. She was 


e/tf STRANGE MEETING 


i39 


whole souled and generous to a fault, loving or 
hating with equal intensity, being in hot water 
continually with some one, not on her own ac¬ 
count, for she was good natured enough, but a 
real or fancied attack on one whom she loved, 
and she was up in arms like a flash, battling 
right royally for friend. It is unnecessary to 
say that she was at daggers drawn with Mrs. 
Tearle, and her quick answers had often routed 
the enemy in a disgraceful manner, thereby 
assisting Mrs. Brown more than she had any 
idea of. True as steel, she had long ago won 
Cad’s heart by her simple loyalty. 

“I have not found out yet what it is you both 
do,” Bess said after a short pause, during which 
Cad had finished her hair, and with a soft white 
cashmere wrapper on, had stretched herself lazily 
out in her favorite chair. 

"We do lots of things,” she said languidly. 

"One is to love each other, isn’t it?” 

"Oh, yes, we all three do that fast enough,” 
put in Lucy. 

"Oh, there is no doubt about you. You are 
the champion of all of us. I don’t see how we 
could get on if we did not have Lucy to fight 
our battles for us, do we, Bess?" 

"No," she answered with a smile. "She 
always makes me think of a little pile of gun¬ 
powder just waiting for a spark to be touched to 


140 


‘BEHIND MASK 


it to flare up and frighten the wits out of every¬ 
one. She sent Mrs. Tearle positively flying out 
of the dining room this morning.” 

"Yes, how was that?” Mrs. Brown asked, 
smoothing her hand over the girl’s curly head 
which rested against her knee. 

"Shall I tell, Lucy?” looking up at her friend, 
who had gone back to the window, and in lieu 
of her former occupation of drumming on the 
glass, was now drawing caricatures with her 
finger tips on the steam which her breath had 
made. 

"As you please,” she answered, not turning 
around. 

"Well, then," said Bess, "you must know we 
were dawdling over our breakfast—most of us 
at our table were slowly sipping coffee while 
listening to our neighbors discussing the ever¬ 
lasting subject of a country hotel, the absent 
neighbor, when Mrs. Tearle, who never can or 
does allow such golden opportunities to slip by, 
said in that baby voice of hers, which I dislike 
so much—‘Has any one seen the (accent on the 
the) Mrs. Brown this morning?’ ” 

"No one had. So she went on to say, as she 
has said innumerable times before, what a queer 
woman you were. Aunty Tubbs said she knew 
you were a good one; to which she replied, 'Are 
you quite sure of that, Mrs. Tubbs?’ 'Quite 


A ST%ANGE MEETING 


141 

sure/ said aunty. Then Mrs. Stone took it up 
and said she knew she would like you as much 
as all of us do, if it were not that you seemed 
such a mystery, and appeared so anxious to hide 
something from the public eye. She wanted to 
like you, indeed she did, but she was so afraid 
of becoming intimate with some one, whom she 
would find out was not a proper associate for 
her. ” 

“Ugh!” came from the window in a disgusted 
tone. 

“Go on pet,” said Mrs. Brown, her eyes smil¬ 
ing at the characteristic interruption. 

“Mrs. Smith said she was not afraid of any 
such thing happening to her. ‘Well, I have 
always my opinion of a woman that has half 
a dozen men dangling after her/ Mrs. Tearle 
answered spitefully, ‘and if some of you can 
tell me where she gallivants to every afternoon, 
and rides so fast that no one can keep up with 
her—does not get home until dark, and with 
her horse in a perfect lather of foam—I say if 
you can make her tell you that, you will surely 
find she goes somewhere for no good purpose. 
I am sure she has not confided in any of you 
to that extent .’ Her voice sounded so triumph¬ 
ant, so impudent, that I was just about to get up 
and say something myself, when Lucy, who' had 
been fidgeting in her seat and rattling her 


142 


*BEHIND A MzASK 


dishes all round her for the past ten minutes, 
looked up with her eyes fairly blazing; but 
when she spoke her voice scared me most to 
death. It was so quiet and calm; it did not 
seem like hers. Then she commenced, ‘My dear 
Mrs. Tearle, if you ever intend to lay claim to 
being a lady, you should never so demean your¬ 
self as to speak so insultingly of one whom you 
confess you know nothing of. I do not feel at 
all called upon to tell you where Mrs. Brown 
spends her afternoons, but, after your horrid re¬ 
marks, it is only due to her that these ladies 
should know. Her horse is very vicious and full 
of spirit, and she is obliged to exercise him 
every day in the manner you have described, or 
it would be impossible to mount him. Not a 
man about the stable can control him. Mr. 
Hill said only the other day that Caesar had 
thrown him once and that he would never at¬ 
tempt to ride him again. So you see, she is 
necessarily obliged to do it herself. And as for 
your having your opinion about half a dozen 
men dangling after her/ and she turned to face 
her enemy, • 'I can only say two things, first, that 
I do think your son has better taste then you 
have, and second, that if you will look in any 
book of old proverbs, you will find something 
about people living in glass houses/ You 
should have seen Mrs. Tearle then,” and Bess 


*A STRANGE MEETING 143 

gave a satisfied little chuckle. "She turned 
deathly pale, and the way she looked at Lucy 
for a moment was simply dreadful. Then she 
got up and, looking at Aunty Tubbs, said, 'Your 
daughter is hardly a credit to you, madam/ and 
swept from the room. It was a disgraceful 
scene, perfectly disgraceful, and the rest of us 
broke up the meeting without saying hardly a 
word. Can’t you tell me, Mrs. Brown, why she 
hates you so?” Bess went on slowly. "Surely, 
you must know. It is the talk of the whole 
hotel, and now some—” 

“Bess”, cried Lucy flying across the room, 
"hold your tongue. What are you saying?” 

“Only what I know Mrs. Brown would say to 
me in the same case,” continued the girl stead¬ 
ily. “If one loves one’s friend, I think it is 
one’s duty to warn them of approaching evil, 
and you know I love you,” laying her cheek in 
the palm of Cad’s hand. 

“I know what you are going to say, dear,” she 
answered slowly. “I have expected it.” 

"Expected it?” echoed both girls together. 

"Why, certainly, no one can hear such things 
as Mrs. Tearle says without finally thinking 
there must be some truth in it.” 

"What foolishness,” cried Lucy indignantly. 
"Anyone with any common sense would see it 


144 


TIE HIND *A MASK 


was only jealousy, because everyone loves you 
so.” 

“Not everyone,” said Mrs. Brown, turning her 
head away to look off out on the water. 

"Well, everyone but—” 

'There’s always a ‘but’ you see,” she inter¬ 
rupted. 

‘‘Oh! there is no use talking to you on the sub¬ 
ject,” said Lucy, almost angrily. ‘‘I told you so 
only a few moments ago. You have simply noth¬ 
ing to say, and it aggravates me most to death. 
I have made up my mind now,” determinedly, 
‘‘and I know to whom I will appeal to stop her 
horrid tongue.” 

‘‘What do you mean?” exclaimed Cad turning 
quickly on her. 

‘‘If you won’t give me any satisfaction, and it 
is plain enough that you won’t, I shall tell Mr. 
Tearle the first time I see him of everything she 
says, and I know he will stop it. He is grateful 
to you, if she isn’t." 

"No, Lucy, not for the world. I shall be very, 
very much vexed if you bring him in in any 
way, I shall, indeed," rising abruptly from her 
seat and walking about the room. 

‘‘But what—” 

‘‘Shall I do?” she interrupted. ‘‘What have I 
told you many times, nothing.” 

"Always nothing,” said the girl dejectedly, 


*A STRANGE MEETING 


i45 


"and I know it all grieves you sadly. It makes 
my heart ache to see the pain it gives you," 
watching the wandering figure with sad eyes. 

"And mine, too,” said Bess. "I do wish she 
would go away." 

"Go away?" said Lucy, "What would Mr. 
Harwood do then, and all the rest she has suc¬ 
ceeded in prejudicing against Mrs. Brown. Go 
away!” she repeated, "no such good fortune. 
She will not go, you may be certain as long as 
there is a chance for her to do anyone any harm.” 

"My goodness," exclaimed Cad, breaking into 
a laugh which sounded forced and harsh, "how 
the poor woman’s ears must be burning. Come 
girls," throwing herself down into a seat, "do 
let us talk of something else. I think we must 
have run this subject out for a while, haven’t 
we?” 

"I haven’t," announced Lucy emphatically, 
"and until this continual scandal is over, I shall 
not stop talking at every opportunity I get." 

"Come here, dear," said Cad from her seat, 
"and you, Bess, sit down here beside me. I want 
to say something to you both. Always remember 
this,” she spoke in a grave, low voice, "when a 
woman carries a clean heart and a clean soul, 
she is proof against any and all that may 
be said or done against her. If you keep your 
Behind A Mask 10 


146 


BEHIND *A MASK 


conscience pure, your self consciousness will 
assist you in bearing any burden, no matter how 
heavy it may be. But when you allow your 
temper or your passions to get the upper hand 
of you, and cause you to use the same weapons to 
fight back with, as those with which you are as¬ 
sailed, then you have placed yourself on a level 
with your opponents. In ordinary skirmishes, as 
you have seen, I have stood my own with one who 
has proven such an enemy to me. But when she 
attacks what is more precious to a woman than 
her life, then I clinch my fists, shut my teeth 
down hard,and often turn coward by running away. 
Why? Because I would not so far forget my¬ 
self as to discuss what is between woman and 
her God only. I mean her honor. It is to Him 
alone that she is answerable. I have known many 
who were as pure as the angels themselves, to 
be so cast upon, that in time, through some mal¬ 
icious remark, they were almost completely 
ostracised from the society of the pure. It is 
wrong, you would say, so to condemn the inno¬ 
cent unheard. But it is, and always has been, 
the custom of the world, to condemn. Therefore, 
can I in turn accuse Mrs. Tearle of what she 
accuses me? Would I not immediately be as 
wickedly intent as she is? In my heart, she can¬ 
not hurt me. ■ In my pride, she can and does very 
sorely. But what redress have I? None. What 


STRANGE MEETING 


147 


satisfaction have I? Worlds. My clear con¬ 
science, my light heart, my perfect faith in the 
good works of my God; and the pure loves of two 
girls, as sweet and true as ever two friends could 
be. Am I not impregnable?” smiling affection¬ 
ately into the two earnest faces so near to her 
own. 

"You are the best woman I ever knew in my 
life,” murmured Bess, her liquid brown eyes up¬ 
turned and loving. 

“And if ever I hear again remarks made con¬ 
cerning you, I believe I—” pausing to find a 
suitable simile, “I will jump right down the 
person’s mouth,” finished Lucy forcibly, al¬ 
though her lashes were still wet with feeling. 

“All the good my lecture has done you, my 
brave little friend;” and Cad put an arm about 
her waist with a laugh half vexed and half 
pleased. “Come now, kiss me, both of you, 
and run away while I change my dress.” 

“I wonder, I do wonder, how much longer this 
is going on,” she murmured to herself as the 
door closed behind them. “It is a bitter, bitter 
fight, but somehow, I believe that heaven is with 
me, and that I will conquer. ” 

Down the winding road dashed a number of 
teams filled with merry chatting groups of la¬ 
dies and gentlemen, bound on a picnic, for a 
number of baskets were perched in conspicuous 


148 


BEHIND *A MASK 


places, and most of the ladies were in large 
straw hats and light picnic costumes. In the 
foremost team, surrounded by her faithful al¬ 
lies, Cad sat, holding the lines over her beauti¬ 
ful grays. Next came Mrs. Tearle, accompanied 
by her group of satellites. 

Two or three wagons followed, filled with 
guests from the hotel. The spot had been pre¬ 
viously selected, and on their arrival the robes 
were "thrown down, the hampers taken in charge 
by Mr. Hill, and the guests spread themselves 
about in pairs and groups; some taking to the 
boats on the lovely little lake, on whose shore 
they were camping, some fishing, some going 
into the woods in search of flowers, berries and 
ferns, and still others stretching themselves out 
on the rugs, lazily viewing the scene and the 
actions of their more vigorously inclined com¬ 
panions. 

Ere long the cry of "Luncheon" resounded 
over the waters and through the woods, taken 
up by the many voices. Soon the steaming 
coffee, iced lemonade, champagne, patti de fois 
grois , cold chicken, turkey, cakes, and so forth, 
were rapidly disappearing before the hungry 
throng. The pleasant repast over, they separated 
once more. 

About the-middle of the afternoon, Cad, who 
had left her companions to return to the picnic 


STRANGE MEETING 149 

grounds for a wrap, was walking slowly up the 
wooded mountain path in search of her friends, 
when the sound of voices attracted her atten¬ 
tion and she came to a standstill to listen. The 
sound she heard froze her blood with horror. 
With quick noiseless steps she reached a bunch 
of undergrowth, and parting the leaves, beheld a 
sight that turned her face to a ghastly hue. 
Lying flat on his back on the green sward, 
with one arm supporting his head, his straw hat 
beside him, lay her husband, and, setting close 
by, with a bunch of wild flowers in her lap, with 
which he was patiently teaching her how to dec¬ 
orate her pretty little rustic bonnet, sat her 
baby, her Bernice. For a moment she looked 
with distended eyes upon the pretty scene. 

“What did you say your name was, my pretty 
little one?” he asked. 

“Bernice,” said the child. 

“Bernice what?” 

“Why, that is all. Should I have any more 
name?” looking into his eyes wonderingly. “I 
must ask Mamma.” 

And then Cad turned and fled hastily down 
the path from whence she had come. Mrs. 
Tearle, Harwood and a number of others were 
reclining on the pebbly beach, watching the 
boats on the water, when Cad suddenly appeared, 
saying in a voice as calm as she could make it— 


150 'BEHIND *A MASK 

"Mr. Harwood, can I ask you to step here a 
moment?" 

'Certainly, Mrs. Brown," he answered, slowly 
rising to his feet while saying in an aside to his 
conpanion, "Horrible bother, Mrs. Tearle. Please 
reserve my place for me. I will be back in a 
moment." 

As soon as he was beyond sight, he darted up 
the path and joined her, saying— 

"What is the matter, Cad? You are as white 
as a ghost.” 

"My God,” she moaned, sinking onto a rock. 

"Tell me what the matter is. You are all out 
of breath; what have you been running for?” 

“Hurry up," she gasped. "Joe is up on the 
hill right off this path with—with Bernice with 
him. Tell him—tell him I want him; I will 
turn down the next path up here and wait for 
him; and please find Sally. She must be some¬ 
where around.” 

He was gone before she had finished, so she rose 
and hurried down the lane she had mentioned, 
where she anxiously awaited with straining ears 
her husband’s appearance. Before long the sound 
of a brisk step crunching the dried leaves, and 
a low whistle reached her. With a sigh of 
intense relief, she sank back on to the grass, 
clinching her hands until the knuckles showed 
white in an effort to regain her. self possession 


A ST%ANGE MEETING i$t 

before he should meet her. But his eyes were 
quick, and the minute they rested on her face, 
which was still agitated, his whistle came to 
an abrupt close, and he hastened to her side, 
saying anxiously— 

"Cad, Cad, what is it?" 

"Nothing," she answered slowly. 

"Why did you send for me?" 

"Because I wanted you to come where we were 
beside the stream." 

"If I did not know you never spoke an untruth, 
I believe I should accuse you of it now. There 
was a reason for your sending for me, and you 
will not tell me what it is. However, I can be 
patient. I have been the past weeks, I think. 
How much longer is this to go on, Cad?" a 
strained silence had fallen upon them. "Is there 
to be no end?" 

"None that I can see," she said wearily. 

"Put an end to it now. The way is still 
open." 

"I thought we agreed after the deep insult 
which you offered me three weeks ago, and which 
I promised to try to forgive, that we would 
speak no more on this subject." 

"My love is stronger than my will. I can 
only say as to my insult to you what I said 
then. I love you so distractedly, you drive me 
made with passion. But you promised me you 


* 5 2 


BEHIND A MzASK 


would try to forgive me for that,” he said re- 
proachfully. 

“And have I not?” she asked quickly. “Have 
you not been constantly with me ever since? 
Have I said one unkind, one ungentle word to 
you? ” 

“No, Cad,” in a low tone. 

“Could you have insulted me more than you 
did?” 

“I am your husband.” 

“No, you are not my husband now—” 

“What do you mean?" he cried harshly “My 
God, you have not been getting a—” and his 
face grew suddenly white and strained. 

“Divorce?” she interrupted with hard, bitter 
laugh, “Oh, no, I have already told you my 
opinion of divorces. But living as we do, sep¬ 
arated, I do not feel that you have any more 
rights with me than a stranger. I may fprgive 
you by and bye, but I fear I shall never be able 
to forget it.” 

“Cad,” leaning toward her and looking deep 
into her eyes, “will you answer me a question 
if I ask it?” 

“Yes.” 

"Then tell me this, truly and honestly, and 
believe me when I say it. I ask it for no motive 
of which you would not approve. Do you love 
me still?” 


STRANGE MEETING 


*53 


She looked calmly in the eyes which were anx¬ 
iously searching her face, with a look as serene 
and cold as a child’s would have been, and said 
slowly: 

“Heaven forgive you, but you have killed it 
at last.” 

“I fear I deserve it,” he said so humbly that it 
stirred her heart with pity. “I should have real¬ 
ized that the woman with whom I dealt was one 
of the few angels of purity on this earth. I 
have not been able to forgive myself, Cad; there¬ 
fore, I should not expect you to do what I am 
unable to do myself.” 

“Come, Joe," she spoke kindly and gently, as 
she arose from her seat, “let us go and find the 
others. We will both feel better when sur¬ 
rounded by company.” 

“As you will,” he said gloomily, and they 
walked slowly up the path in silence. 

“Where were you for such a long time after 
lunch?" she asked finally in a manner which she 
endeavored to make cheerful, “taking a solitary 
ramble? ” 

“Yes, and, oh, by Jove!” he exclaimed, sud¬ 
denly awaking from his melancholy reflections, 
“I met the dearest, sweetest little woodland 
elf you ever saw. I was playing with her when 
Harwood interrupted me by saying you were 
looking for me.” 


‘BEHIND <A MASK 


’’Indeed, ” she said faintly, turning her head 
aside. 

“Yes, and wasn’t it queer? Said she was four 
years old, but only knew she said one name, and 
that just suited her, Bernice.’ 

“That is a pretty name. 

“And she was a pretty baby,” he continued. 
“Curled herself up in my arms and put her little 
hands around my neck in such a confiding way 
that I wanted to carry her off with me.” 

“Do what?” she asked, turning suddenly on 
him, her eyes wide open. 

“Oh, do not look so shocked,” he said half 
laughing, “I am not a kidnapper, but somehow, 
the little thing came right to me, and you know 
babies are afraid of me as a rule—I am so ac¬ 
cursedly dark and forbidding looking.” 

“Oh, no, you are not,” she said .gently. 

"It is kind of you to say so,” looking grateful 
for her sympathetic words. “I must find out to 
whom the child belongs. I should like to see 
more of it; she said she lived over there,” point¬ 
ing with his stick, “but those are not very 
definite directions to go by.. Said also she 
lived at Brown’s. What is the matter?” as 
she gave a little start. 

"Stepped on a rock, I think,” she murmured, ' 
walking rapidly ahead of him, that he might 


A STRANGE {MEETING 155 

not see her face. "Well?” she asked, "what 
else? 

"Oh, yes, she said she lived at Brown’s, but 
bless my soul, she might as well have said 
Smith’s. I never saw anything like this section 
of the country. You are all Browns, Joneses, and 
Smiths. Every farmer I meet is one or the 
other. ” 

"Just the reason I took the name,” she thought. 
"And how I thank Heaven for it now.” 

"Here they are,” he said—they had come sud* 
denly on their party. "Is it time to be return¬ 
ing? How many fish did you get, Miss Tubbs?” 

"None. I did not fish,” she answered. "I 
think only the ones on the lake have done 
that.” 

"Do you feel tired, dear?” turning to Cad. 
"You look so.” 

"I am, slightly. Have you had a pleasant 
day? ” 

"Perfectly lovely," said the girl, slipping her 
arm about Cad’s waist as they turned to go back 
to the carriages. "And you?” she asked. 

"I have confessed to being tired. Where is 
Bess?” 

"She and Mr. Harwood went for a walk a 
little while ago. I suppose we will find them 
at the grounds. What can she see in him to be 
nice to?” suddenly sinking her voice. 


"BEHIND *A [MASK 


156 


“They are not all Devine, dear," she replied 
mischievously. 

“I am very glad they are not," she answered 
boldly, but with flushing cheeks. “I should not 
appreciate him half so much if they were.” 

“Here are the carriages, Lucy. Now get your 
ammunition out. Mrs. Tearle looks as though 
she were going to fire a shot at me.” 

“My dear Mrs. Brown," cried the lady as they 
drew near, “can you tell me where Mr. Harwood 
is? After your peculiarly unceremoniousaction 
in dragging him away a couple of hours ago, he 
has not reappeared. You were the last to see 
him. You must therefore account for his 
absence. ” 

“My society proved too much for him, Mrs. 
Tearle,” said Cad, her eyes sparkling rougishly. 
“I left him in a dead faint about a mile up 
that mountain path.” 

“I shouldn’t wonder if you did,” she answered 
smiling; “but, seriously, where is he?” 

"I have not seen him for ever so long, so I can¬ 
not tell you." 

"Can you, Miss Tubbs?” turning toward her. 

“Yes, he and Miss Jones went for a stroll about 
two hours ago. I presume he must be with her 
now." 

“So that is what you needed him for in such a 
hurry?" said Mrs. Tearle, looking at Cad. “I 


*A STRANGE MEETING 


*57 


might have known it was something of the sort.” 

“Get in, Lucy,” said Mrs. Brown, as she 
smiled in answer to the remark. Then she 
climed up to her place and took the lines. “Good 
bye. Tell Bess we could not wait for her,” she 
called to Mrs. Tearle after her party was all 
seated. “You will make a place for her will you 
not?” And she drove merrily away, well know¬ 
ing that Harwood would look after her little 
friend’s comfort and happiness, if it were only 
because of her being her friend. 

“I know you by the particular smell of your 
cigarette, Cad,” Harwood said, as he flung him¬ 
self in a chair on the dark porch. 

“A good set of olfactory organs you have, then,” 
answered the small figure from the depth of her 
seat. "I came out here on purpose, knowing you 
would hunt me up.” 

“You knew right,” he answered. “What a black 
night! Where is the moon?” 

“Waiting for us to have a private chat before 
he rises and sheds his shining glory over the sea 
and sky.” 

“Poetic, aren’t you? You must be feeling 
happy?” 

“I am. Wouldn’t you?” 

“B’lieve I should. That was just about as 
close a shave-as I want to have again.” 

“Tell me about it," 


158 


BEHIND *4 {MASK 


“Well, I hurried up the path listening for the 
sound of their voices. When I did hear them, 
I crept softly in, and there they were. She was 
making a flower chain of some kind, and he was 
talking to her. I waited a minute to collect my 
thoughts, and then I stepped suddenly forward 
and said: 'Oh, Tearle, excuse my interruption. 
But Mrs. B. is down there in the third path and 
says she wants to see you a moment.’ It took,” 
and he gave a little laugh. "He just said ‘goodbye, 
little one’, and was off like a streak. Bernice 
had not time to say a word. I was prepared for 
Uncle Harwy, at the least, but fortunately it hap¬ 
pened too quickly to allow it. You have seen 
Sally; probably you know the rest." 

"Yes poor soul, she was just about frightened 
to death.” 

"To think that Joe, who I can never per¬ 
suade her is not one of the deepest villains on 
earth, should have the child with him, was 
something awful to her. It shall not happen 
again. I will have my road closed, and the gates 
locked, with strict orders for no one to enter; 
and Bernice must not leave the grounds until 
these people are gone. Poor Mrs. Bolton is in 
an awful state." 

"She need not fear. I shall keep closer to Mr. 
Moore than ever now, and if he gets another 


STRANGE MEETING 


r 59 


opportunity to do any more spying, it will have 
to be done in my company.” 

"You are very, very good, Harry, to do what 
you have for me, and for poor Mrs. Bolton. I feel 
more grateful to you with each day.” 

“Do you? It is not necessary. I am amply 
repaid with your kind, friendly affection. It is 
more to me than anything I shall ever be able 
to do for you. ” 

“I forgot, I have something to tell you.” 

“I am all attention—proceed.” 

“It is in regard to a horrible scene which 
occurred in the dining room this morning.” 

“When your friend Lucy came down in a per¬ 
fectly disgraceful manner on your mother-in- 
law; ” and he mimicked Mrs. Tearle’s voice. 

“You have heard of it, then?” 

“Yes, I heard one side of the story; now tell 
me the other.” 

“I suppose they will not correspond any better 
than any of the stories have. But Bess and 
Lucy were much excited over the affair,” and Cad 
gave him the account which the girls had de¬ 
scribed so graphically. 

“Good, wasn’t it?” he exlcaimed with a chuc¬ 
kle, when she had finished. “That Lucy of yours 
is a trump card for us. How she does detest 
me! Cad, do you know I have just about de- 


i6o 


BEHIND A MASK 


cided to go on the stage when this little affair 
is brought to a finish.” 

“You will make a hit,” she laughed. 

"So I shall. What character do you think I 
ought to take?” 

“The one which fits all your gender, as far as 
my experience goes.” 

“And that is?” 

"A gay deceiver.” 

“I will send you a box for the first night. 
Remember to remind me.” 

‘‘I shall not forget,” smiling. “I am going in 
now. See, the moon is rising. It is a signal for 
us to bring our conclave to a close. Are you 
coming? " 

"In a few moments.” 

“Give my mother-in-law my love. It may, 
perhaps, please her,” with a pause on the ‘per¬ 
haps.’ ‘‘Poor thing, she looks dreadfully worn.” 

‘‘I feel sorry for her.” 

‘‘Save your pity. You may need it for other 
more worthy objects.” 

‘‘So I may,” rising and standing beside him, 
"and perhaps I had better save my love for the 
same purpose.” 

"I think so.” 

"Well, at any rate, do not fail to remember 
me to her.” 


A STRANGE MEETING 


161 


"Oh! be sure, I will do that,” he said, with 
a grim laugh as she glided away. 

***** 

"Dance this reel with me, Cad?” said Tearle 
joining her at the door. 

"Are they getting up a set?” 

"Yes. I have been looking everywhere for you 
to ask you to give me the pleasure. Take my 
arm. Please do,” as she hesitated. "Now for 
a good turn.” 

"Why, there is Bess sitting alone, and all 
the men have partners. What a sin!” she cried. 

"Stand here and I will look up Harwood,” he 
commenced quickly. "Oh, I can save myself the 
trouble; there he comes himself, and bound 
straight for her, too. Lovely little creature, 
she is, Cad. I do not wonder you have taken 
such a fancy to her.” 

"She is indeed a sweet child,” she agreed 
readily, "and do^you know, I have half made up 
my mind to adopt her for my own.” 

"Nice mother, you would make. Six or seven 
years older than your daughter.” 

"There are lots of girls whose mothers are 
even younger than themselves these days. Now, 
Lucy,” she cried, laughing, "keep that everlast¬ 
ing foot of yours still. The music has not com¬ 
menced yet.” 

Behind A Mask // 


162 


BEHIND <M MASK 


“I can’t help it,” returned the girl. “A Vir¬ 
ginia reel always makes my nerves begin to 
jump, and I can hardly wait for—” 

“Salute!” called the violinist from the piano. 

“Just so,” smiled Cad, who stood beside her, 
the gentlemen having hastily taken their places. 
***** 

“I am dreadfully tired tonight, Bess,” said Mrs. 
Brown, as she paused at her door to speak to the 
giW. 

“Are you? won’t you let me come in, then, and 
comb your hair for you. It might rest you." 

“You must be wearied yourself, pet,” patting 
the hand she held. 

“Oh, no, I am not. Please let me.” 

“Very well, then, come in;” and they entered 
together. 

“You had a nice walk today?” she asked, look¬ 
ing into the mirror before her at the girl’s 
sweet face, as she stood behind her chair brush¬ 
ing out the long hair. 

“Yes, very,” with a faint blush. 

“Mr. Harwood is very nice, isn’t he?” 

“Yes,” came again in a low tone. 

“And every moment he has had for a long time 
he has given to you, Bess, hasn’t he?" 

“I have not noticed," she stammered. 

“Oh, Bess!” playfully; “ such a—Why, darling, 
what is it?” she cried, as the girl suddenly 


A STRANGE {MEETING 163 

sank upon her knees and buried her face in Cad’s 

lap. 

“I am so sorry,” came in muffled tones from 
the folds of her wrapper. 

“Sorry, dear? Why?” 

“Because, oh, because he treats you so horribly 
and seems to be such friends with that horrid 
woman, and that detestable Mr. Moore; and I 
know he isn’t what he appears. I know he 
doesn’t really like them at all, and he always 
speaks so nicely of you to them, and—and,” she 
finished incoherently, raising a flushed tear- 
stained face to view. 

“And you, darling?” said Cad putting her hand 
beneath her chin and gently raising the face so 
as to force the downcast eyes to meet her own 
“and you?" 

“I—I” stammered the sweet voice, vainly en¬ 
deavoring to hide her eyes. 

"Look at me, Bess," said the low, full sympathet¬ 
ic voice. “Ah!" she cried, when the brown eyes 
met hers in a brief glance. "My dear little 
girl.” 

“Oh! do not cry," as the dark head was hidden 
once more. “Tell me all about it. Your secret 
is safe with me, my child,” and stooping, she 
pressed a kiss upon the brown locks. 

“Oh, can you forgive me, Mrs. Brown?” she 
asked finally, after her sweet little confession had 


164 


‘BEHIND <A MASK 


been made, and she knelt beside her with her 
head pillowed on her breast. 

“Forgive you, dear? What have I to forgive?” 

“That—that—that I should—” 

“Prefer Mr. Harwood’s company to any other, 
you are going to say?" 

“Yes.” 

“But why not?” 

“You have been so kind to me, have made me 
feel so much less alone in the world than I 
have ever felt before, since Mamma was taken, 
you have given me so much that no one ever 
thought of giving me, 2nd I love you so dearly, 
it makes my heart ready to break to think that 
he—" 

“Already he is ‘he,’ ” interrupted Cad with a 
smile, “but now, darling, I am going to tell 
you a secret, and believe me. If I did not feel 
that I could trust you implicitly, I would not 
thus place all my future happiness in your 
hands. It is a grave affair, my little one, and I 
can only tell you enough to set your heart at 
rest; but, you must remember, that not even to 
him must you give a sign, and in both of us, if 
you decide to take this upon you, you must have 
absolute faith.” 

“I am perfectly willing to accept your confi¬ 
dences under any conditions you might make,” 


A STRANGE MEETING 165 

replied the girl firmly, “and shall feel myself 
very proud of your trust in me.’’ 

“I have little'to say, dear; only this, Harry—, 
ah, you start—I do not wonder—Harry Harwood 
and I are the very best friends in the world. 
In truth, he is the best friend I have.” 

“You and he? Friends?” ejeculated the girl 
with open eyes. 

“Yes, darling, dear, true, honest friends, with 
hardly a secret from each other.” 

“But when—” she stammered. 

“When do we get an opportunity to exchange 
confidences?" she interjected smiling. “Lots 
of times throughout the day.” 

“Then he does not care for—” 

“That horrid woman, little Miss Jealousy,” 
pinching the rosy cheeks. “No, he hates her as 
much, probably, a great deal, more than you could 
ever be capable of doing. Now you are going 
to ask the reason of his strange actions,” as the 
girl opened her mouth to speak, “and in reply I 
can only say that that is what I cannot tell you. 
But I will say this: if you will trust us both 
absolutely, you will in time find out what all 
the trouble is, though now you must be very pa¬ 
tient. ” 

“Oh, I will; I can,” Bess broke forth sudden¬ 
ly. "I feel so happy." 

“Dear little daughter,” murmured Cad, laying 


i 66 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


her cheek against the soft, smooth one on her 
bosom. “I have felt, too; I can sympathize ” 

“It must have been awful to lose him,” said 
the girl gently. 

“Yes, the way I did, was awful,” her friend 
answered with saddened eyes. 

“How long ago did he die?” 

“I can tell you nothing, little one, of my own 
affairs. We must speak only of yours. Your 
happiness, so sweet and new to you, thrills my 
heart with a glad sympathy.” 

“Perhaps he will never care for me,” Bess mur¬ 
mured beneath her breath. 

“Oh, yes, he will,” was the cheerful answer. 
“He always calls you, 'My little woodland vio¬ 
let’ when he speaks of you, and I began some 
time ago to hear a tender ring in his voice as 
he said it. Never fear, my little girl, your 
heart has not led you wrong. He is as noble 
and true a lover as ever woman could have.” 

“I am so happy,” said Bess softly, “and I hate to 
have to go away from you and sleep with Lucy. 
She is sure to say something against him. ” 

“I will attend to that. Wait here for a mo¬ 
ment,” and Cad rose and abruptly left the room. 
“Now," she said, returning after a few moments, 
“disrobe yourself and come to bed with me. I 
have Lucy’s permission.” 

“Oh, can I?” cried the girl with joy. 


*A STRANGE MEETING 


167 


"Certainly. Have I not spoken?” she asked 
serio-tragically. "Yes,” her voice softening in¬ 
sensibly, "for once you may feel that almost a 
mother’s love is hovering around you in your 
sleep. Just as your own mother’s spirit does, 
no doubt. I know I feel that mine must be 
with me sometimes.” 

"How can I ever thank you for all your sweet 
sympathy and encouragement?” said Bess as she 
bade her friend good night. 

"By simply loving me,” answered the poor 
aching heart, so longing to be filled with affec¬ 
tion in place of the empty, hollow pains it now 
held. 

"I do; I do,” Bess murmured, "and with all 
my heart.” 

"Heaven bless you,” answered the sweet voice, 
"and may your life be full of peace and happi¬ 


ness. 


CHAPTER VI 

UNITED AGAIN 

Once more the days have glided by into weeks, 
and the weeks into months, and then into six 
weeks, since the events described in the last 
chapter; but affairs had changed sadly. The 
game of cross-purposes still runs on, and the end 
still seems afar off. 

Poor Cad; her heart almost fails her at times, 
for it has all happened as she has predicted. 
Mrs. Tearle’s remarks and insinuations have 
found their hearers, and alas! they have become 
so numerous, that at present it is only a small 
army that rally ’round her banner. Her ever 
faithful friends, Lucy and Bess, Mrs. Tubbs, 
Mrs. Smith, Devine, and her husband. The lat¬ 
ter, however, has not been as constant as usual 
for the past week, and things look dark, indeed 
—almost too dark at times for even her brave 
spirit to bear. It is becoming worse and worse; 
scornful looks, disdainful actions, and bold in¬ 
sinuations meet her on every side. Mrs. Tearle’s 
star is now clearly in the ascendant. She has 
almost achieved her end, and with her success, 
she brings her old-time smiling, innocent face. 

168 


United *AG*Ai€f 


169 


The season is almost over, and the guests are be¬ 
ginning to prepare for flight. The days have 
grown shorter, and the evenings already call for 
the pleasant fireside. 

It is five o’clock, and Cad, in her close-fitting, 
dainty habit, is standing at the stable door, 
flecking the dust at her feet with her gold-han¬ 
dled whip, while waiting for the saddle to be 
put on her horse, when Harwood runs up quick¬ 
ly, seemingly on his way to the stable, but as 
he passes her he brushed the whip from her 
hand, and bending to pick it up,, said in a low 
tone. 

“Do not go home, Cad. Ride on the straight 
road. I will explain later,” after which he hur¬ 
ries on and she slowly mounts Caesar’s back, ab¬ 
sently touching him with her whip. 

It was a thoughtless action, and one to which 
the animal was not accustomed. He started for¬ 
ward with a bound; then paused below the low 
piazza on which there was a number of people, 
reared on his hind legs. 

“She is off!” screamed a lady excitedly. 

But, fixing herself firmly in her seat, Cad said 
in a low tone: 

“Caesar! ” 

The beast was now perfectly infuriated by the 
cries beside him, and lost to the sound of her 
Voice, he endeavored in every possible manner 


170 


<j BEHIND A McASK 


to throw his rider. It was an exciting contest. 
The great black creature, with flaming eyes and 
distended nostrils, and the slim, lithe figure 
seated as if carved of stone in her saddle, her 
face white with determination, and her lips 
closed in a line which showed her immense will 
power. Again and again he reared in the air, then 
jumped quickly to one side, and putting his head 
down, tried to throw her over it. And still the 
quiet figure remained in its place and said noth¬ 
ing. The cries of the ladies had brought a 
crowd to the scene, and a number of gentlemen 
sprang forward to her assistance, but the vicious 
beast rushed at them in such anger, that they 
beat a hasty retreat, and the battle went on. 

Suddenly two figures came running up the 
road, and Harwood and Tearle rushed bravely 
forward to grasp the lines. Then for the first 
time she opened her lips and cried hoarsely: 

“Do not touch him; he is not safe. He will 
harm you both; stand aside.” 

But Tearle was a brave man, and not heeding 
her warning words, he rushed desperately for¬ 
ward. 

“Stand away, Harwood,” she cried violently, 
as Caesar rose back on his haunches; then sud¬ 
denly she raised herself in her saddle and brought 
her whip down, once, twice, thrice, on his head, 
with all her strength. 


UNITED tAGAUN: 


171 

With a snort of rage, the horse fell back on 
his forefeet, where he stood for a portion of a 
second almost subdued, and trembling. Tearle 
immediately dashed at him again, when, with 
a low ejaculation, she struck the animal once 
more; at which he put his head down and tak¬ 
ing the bit between his teeth, tore rapidly down 
the road and out of sight. 

Breathless and gasping the crowd looked fear¬ 
fully down the path she had taken, until some 
one spoke and the spell was broken. Tearle flew 
hastily toward the stable and soon appeared, 
mounted on a horse to go in pursuit, when Cad 
reappeared, trotting rapidly up the road; pass¬ 
ing the porch, she reached her husband’s side, 
when she said in a cold, although still agitated 
voice: 

“You will see he is perfectly beneath control. 
You are saved the trouble of coming in search of 
me.” Then before he could reply, was off again 
like the wind. 

Two hours later she dropped wearily from 
her saddle and walked slowly toward her rooms, 
hardly hearing the words of congratulation a 
number of gentlemen had started forward to give 
her. Reaching her chamber, she threw herself 
into a chair, and bending down her head, she 
cried as if her heart would break. 

"Dear Cad,” said a low, gentle voice, as a 


172 


‘BEHIND e A MASK 


warm, soft arm stole about her neck; “dear 
Cad." 

“Oh, Bess, Bess; it is more than I can bear," 
she cried violently. “I must give it all up. It 
is no use." 

“Give what up, dear? There, there, do not 
cry so. You are all worn and tired," said the 
gentle comforter, “and your nerves are all upset 
by such a dreadful experience. Come, take off 
your habit and bathe your eyes. Let me give 
you a glass of wine.” 

“Nowyou are all right again," Bess said cheer¬ 
fully, after she had busied round and got her 
friend the wine, made her change her gown and 
cool her hot face in a basin of water. 

“Yes, dear, I feel much better. I don’t know 
what made me break down so. You are a dear 
little friend, Bess. You cannot imagine how 
grateful I am for such a one. See who is at the 
door, dear," a hurried knock sounded on the 
panel 

“Oh, Cad, may I come in?" asked Lucy from 
the threshold. “I only just heard of the narrow 
escape you had, and I flew up as soon as I could 
to find out how you were. ” 

“Bless your dear good heart, I am as well as 
I ever was in my.life. There, Lucy, don’t you 
treat us to a vale of tears. I have just been 


UNITED AGiAWt 


i 73 


wading in one myself,” as the girl sank onto a 
chair with quivering lips. 

“George frightened me most to death. First, 
you had been thrown, then killed, and then not 
thrown at all; and it was altogether as discon¬ 
nected a tale as ever I heard. It is such a relief 
to find you as you are, that there—you positively 
must let me have a comfortable little cry or I 
shall burst.” 

“With all my heart. Go right over in the 
corner there,” said Cad smiling, “and drop 
them into a basin. It will save the carpet, and 
your handkerchief too.” 

Both girls burst out laughing, Lucy answering: 

“Well, I shall reserve the weep for another 
time, then.” 

“And as you have it all made to order, it will 
not take much to bring it out. Poor George.” 

“Yes, he will probably get the benefit of the 
shower, when it does come.” 

“Happy George,” said Bess with a faint blush 
tinging her cheeks. 

“Oh, you little scamp,” cried Lucy, laughing. 

“Who would have ever thought you capable of 
such an idea?” 

“Hark to the superior tone adopted by a two 
week’s old affianced wife,” exclaimed Cad with a 
smile. “There is the gong for dinner, girls,” she 


i 74 


•BEHIND *A MASK 


cried suddenly. “Will you help me to change my 
dress?” 

“Come into the library after dinner, Cad, and 
play for us,” said Lucy, as they all three walked 
toward the dining-room. 

“I will with pleasure.” 

“He sent you this,” whispered Bess in Cad’s 
ear, pressing a note into her hand They were in 
the large library, and she was sitting at the piano 
playing waltzes for a few couples who had 
strolled in, attracted by the sound of the in¬ 
spiring strains. 

“Take my place, dear, while I read it,” she 
answered rising from her seat. But she had 
read only a few words when Mrs. Tearle, Har¬ 
wood, Moore, and a number of others entered 
the room, and the dancing ceased. Turning 
hastily aside, she thrust the note into her bos¬ 
om, and joined her group of friends. 

“Let us have spirit rappings,” proposed some 
one of Mrs. Tearle’s party. “It will be great fun.” 

“Turn down the gas and have only the dim fire¬ 
light instead.” 

“Splendid,” seconded Moore. “There are just 
enough of us here to make pleasant a party. Oh, 
I beg your pardon, Mr. Grant. I forgot you 
were a stranger,” turning to a quiet looking gen¬ 
tleman who stood beside him. “My friend, Mr. 
Grant," he exclaimed approaching the group by 


UNITED *.4G*AIN 


*75 


the fire. “Miss Tubbs, Mr. Devine, and this,” 
turning toward Cad, “is Mrs. Brown. Now sup¬ 
pose we draw up to the largest card table. It 
will hold us all; and we want you to join us in 
a spiritual meeting.” 

“How splendid!” cried Lucy. “You sit next 
to me, George,” looking at her lover. “I know 
I shall feel nervous.” 

“What nonsense,” he answered, laughing. 
“You surely do not believe there is anything in 
it.” 

“Let us try and see what we can do, said 
Mrs. Tearle seating herself. “It must be honest, 
you know; no joking.” 

Presently they were all seated with their 
finger tips resting on the polished surface of 
the table. Cad sat with Bess on one side, the 
stranger on the, other. 

“We shall never be able to move this great 
thing, “said Lucy disgustedly, when the gas 
was lowered and only the dancing flames shed 
an uncertain light about the long room. 

“You must keep quiet,” George said in a low 
tone. “The spirits only come while it is still.” 

“How do you know?” she asked critically. 

“Sh, sh,“ hissed the others warningly. 

The light had been growing more and more 
uncertain as the wood burned down to a coal. 

All was quiet. Suddenly, with a last spas- 


176 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


modic flicker, it was gone entirely, and they were 
left in almost total darkness. At that moment, 
Cad felt a hand forcibly pressed across her 
mouth, and someone endeavoring to unbutton her 
bosom to get the note which was hidden there. 

With a quick move, she wrenched the hand 
from off her mouth and grasped its companion, 
which already held the letter. 

"What is the matter?” cried Harwood, who sat 
two seats away and heard the commotion. 

"George, turn up the gas, quick. What is 
this?” he exclaimed, as the light fell upon the 
two struggling figures. 

"Oh, Heavens!” shrieked Mrs. Tearle. 

"Cad,” screamed Lucy, dashing around the 
table to her side. 

The strange Mr. Grant and Mrs. Brown were 
in a most peculiar position. He held in his 
hand a crumpled note which she, with disheveled 
dress and rumpled hair, was vainly endeavoring 
to wrest from his hand. 

"My note!” she exclaimed. 

"No, madame, my note, which you picked from 
my pocket." 

"Why, Grant, that is grave charge to make 
against the lady,” said Moore earnestly. "Hand 
it to me, and let us hear what you both have to 
say. ” 

"It is my letter,” said Cad excitedly. "I re- 





UNITED 


1 7 1 


peat it, he took it from between these two but¬ 
tons of my dress.” 

“I gave it to her not ten minutes ago,” cried 
Bess warmly, starting forward with flushed face 
and gleaming eyes. 

“And I repeat that this woman stole it from 
me. Ah, see!” he cried triumphantly, "here is 
my handkerchief hanging from her pocket. Per¬ 
ceive, ladies and gentlemen,” holding it up for 
them to observe. “This is my initial in the 
corner. ” 

"Your handkerchief,” faltered Cad, looking up 
in his face in blank amazement. "How came it 
there?” 

"Well, Mrs. Brown,” exclaimed Mrs. Tearle; 
“I did not think this of you.” 

“You can keep your horrible thoughts to your¬ 
self, Madame,” cried Lucy, who was fairly 
boiling over with indignation. "It is perfect 
nonsense. No one in his right mind would ever 
dream of such a thing.” 

“Probably you can explain the presence of this 
handkerchief, then,” said Moore, turning toward 
Mrs. Brown without noticing the remark of her 
friend. “No? That is strange,” as Cad an¬ 
swered by an indignant glance. “Then, in order 
to decide the question, I must really read the 
letter to see to whom it belongs." 

Behind A Mask /a 



178 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


Harwood made a step forward at this, but 
paused abruptly. A drawn white face appeared 
over Moore’s shoulder, a hand reached down, and 
tore the note from his grasp, while a deep, stern 
voice said: 

“Albert Moore, I could wring your neck with 
pleasure; but I would not soil my hands with 
such filth. Who is this man?” 

“I am Mr. Clifford Grant, sir,” said the stran¬ 
ger boldly, “and who may you be?” 

“I do not consider it any of your business,” he 
replied haughtily. 

“By what right do you take possession of this 
letter, already stolen from me by this woman 
here?” 

“You are telling an untruth, sir; this lady is 
incapable of such an action.” 

“Oh, if you are to be her accomplice, I can 
only throw myself on the generosity of the oth¬ 
ers to see that I will get my rights.” 

“You shall get your rights, sir, if you have 
any. Cad,” turning to his wife, “to whom does 
this note belong?" 

“To me,” she answered softly. 

“Take it," he said, quietly handing it to her. 

“What supreme confidence,” hissed Mrs. 
Tearle, who was quite beside herself with rage 
and chagrin. 

“Mr. Tearle, I deny your right to champion 


UNITED AGAIN 


179 


this woman as you are doing,” cried Moore, start¬ 
ing forward again. 

"Unfortunately for you, you cannot,” said Joe 
calmly, although his face was still pale with 
anger. "This lady is my wife." 

“Your what?” they shrieked in a chorus. 

"I said it plainly, did I not?” a slight smile 
on his lips. "My wife. Four years ago, we 
were separated by a most foolish quarrel, and as 
you have most of you perceived long ago, we 
have been endeavoring all summer to settle our 
differences. The pretty drama can go on no 
longer. It has already placed her in a number 
of false positions, which, I am glad to say, will 
now be at an end. Come, Cad, we will leave 
this seance to a more fitting termination than 
our presence would allow of. You will please 
forget your supreme hatred of my wife now, 
mother,” turning to that lady as he was lead¬ 
ing Cad away, “when I confess publicly to you 
that I have been entirely in the wrong. Your 
animosity was, perhaps, justifiable according to 
your feeling as a mother, but it can be so no 
more. ” 

"Well, I never!” ejaculated Mrs. Stone, sink¬ 
ing into a seat. 

"Glory—glory!” cried Lucy excitedly, and 
grasping Devine’s arm. "Come, Bess, let us go 
and tell Mamma. Oh, I knew it—I knew it,” 


i8o 


BEHIND *A MASK 


she repeated gleefully, as she dragged her friend 
along with her. 

"That scheme is evidently exploded,” said 
Moore to Grant. 

“What shall you do now?" whispered Harwood, 
bending over Mrs. Tearle’s chair. 

"Who would have thought he would confess to 
it?" she answered slowly and in a dazed fashion. 

"It was no use, Cad," Joe was saying in the 
privacy of her room, "I had to do it.” 

"I suppose there was nothing else left,” she 
answered sadly. 

"Cad!" 

"Yes, Joe." 

"I am very sorry it happened, dear.” 

"So am I." 

"I suppose you are," he said bitterly, "because 
you do not love me. That has been the reason I 
have been quiet for so long. It is weeks since 
I acknowledged freely to myself that you are 
what you have proved to be, a noble, pure woman. 
Oh, my wife, forgive me, if you can, that I ever 
dared to doubt you. I know what a blind, blind, 
unhappy fool I have been, and believe me, I 
have bitterly repented. My punishment could 
not be more severe than it is.” 

"Then, at last, you have faith in me?” she 
asked, a ray of -light crossing her face. 


UNITED zAG<iAIN 


181 

“With all my heart and soul,” he answered 
gravely. 

“Oh, I thank you, Joe,” and there was a world 
of gratitude in her eyes. 

“Will you prove your friendly feeling by go¬ 
ing away from here and being my wife once 
more? ” 

Her look of pleasure vanished to one of pain, 
but controlling herself bravely she said quietly, 

“Yes, Joe, I promise you that.” 

“Thank you, dear.” 

“Do you think it best that we should leave 
Oceanside?” she asked after a moment’s thought. 
“I hope not. ” 

“Would you rather remain here?” 

“I think I should, but I wish to please you, Joe, 
if you deem it the better thing to do, then we 
had better go.” 

“And I in my turn,” he answered quickly, as he 
looked deeply into her eyes, “have as my sole 
desire, the wish to please you, and we will 
remain. Come to think of it,” he added reflect¬ 
ively, “you are right. It is here that you have 
been so harshly persecuted and so entirely 
wronged, and it is here"—he brought his hand 
down emphatically on his knee—“It is here 
that you shall be righted. I shall have it so. 
Now tell me how it happened that you got into 
such trouble tonight. Who is this Mr. Grant?” 


182 


‘BEHIND MASK 


“I do not know. He was introduced by Mr. 
Moore as his friend, and set down with us at the 
table. He had the next seat to mine. The gas 
was turned down and the fire was burning low. 
Just as the last flame flickered away, I felt one 
of his hands suddenly pressed across my mouth 
and the other searching at the bosom of my 
breast for my note, which I had placed there not 
five minutes before, as I had not had time to 
read it. I grasped his hand and struggled to 
wrench it from his fingers. Harwood heard the 
noise and called out. The lights were turned 
up, and he accused me of stealing it from him; 
and then suddenly took his handkerchief from 
my pocket, as if in confirmation of his charge. 
You know the rest.” 

“There is something very wrong about that," 
he answered knitting his brows; “but of course 
it is quite necessary he should apologize to you, 
which he shall do at the first opportunity. Was 
there aught in the letter which it would have 
benefitted him to read?" 

“I do not know," a frightened look coming 
into her eyes. 

“Read it and see," he said carelessly, and 
crossed the room to the table, where, with his 
back turned to her, he helped himself to a cigar¬ 
ette, which he took some time in lighting. 
Turning around at a low exclamation which she 


UNITED c AGAI&C i8 3 

made, he walked rapidly to her side, crying— 

"Cad, what is it? What does the note contain 
to call such a look of horror and grief to your 
eyes? " 

Crunching it hastily between her fingers, she 
looked up into his face— 

"I cannot tell you," she murmured. 

"Cannot tell me?" he said reproachfully, "can't 
you trust your husband?” 

"Yes, oh, yes," she answered hurriedly, "it is 
not that, but—but—" 

"My dear little girl, do not be so frightened," 
putting his arm around her shoulder and draw¬ 
ing her to him, "you must not be so nervous. I 
shall neither take it from you, nor try to compel 
you to divulge its secret if it has one. Keep it, 
dear. Only remember, if you have any trouble 
which I can lighten for you, I am at your 
service." 

"Oh, Joe, how can I thank you?" she asked 
with quivering lips and brimming eyes. 

"You can kiss me, Cad, will you?" 

"Yes," she said slowly, and lifted her face 
to his. 

"You have proved more kind than I," when 
their lips had met and parted, "for such a 
caress from those lips cost you more to give, 
than my lack of curiosity could possibly cost 
me. Good night, dear. I am going now." 


i3 4 


BEHIND *A MASK 


"Going?" she repeated, with a strange look 
on her face. 

"Can I remain?" bounding suddenly to her 
side. 

"As you wish," turning her head away. 

He stepped back and dropped his arms beside 
him, saying in a low sorrowful tone: - 

"When you learn to love me again, Cad, it may 
be different. Now I am as much alone, as I have 
been for four years. You are not to blame, dear—" 
she had drawn a deep sigh—"it is only I, and I 
alone can suffer." 

His voice was full of sadness and humility, 
and his eyes of unspoken pain, as he turned 
slowly toward the door. The knob was in his 
hand, when she moved quickly to his side saying 
in a rapid voice— 

"I have not thanked you sufficiently yet, Joe. 
You cannot conceive of the depth of my grati¬ 
tude, for your perfect confidence and proof of 
love. I—I—” she paused, then hurried on, "I 
would rather be alone now. I have had so much 
to make me wish for some time to think. But 
it cannot be as you have described. I must be 
your wife entirely, or not at all. No, please do 
not answer me," her face flushed and her eyes 
downcast, "only go quickly,” and as he mechani¬ 
cally opened the door, she gently pushed him out 
and closed it softly behind him. She had not 


UNITED AGAlVf 1S5 

given him the opportunity to utter a word in 
reply. 

When his rapid step had died away in the 
distance, she turned about, and pulling her chair 
before the fire, sat down and took the note from 
her pocket. She read slowly and carefuly— 

You must see me tonight at twelve o’clock, 

I know it is an awful risk to run, but I can see 
no other way. We are almost discovered, and 
the safety of our little one is being jeopardized. 
Speak little to, but watch closely, the gentle-- 
man whom Mr. Moore will introduce to you 
tonight as Mr. Grant. He is a detective that 
they have employed to ferret us out. I have no 
time to say more. Shall be obliged to come to 
your room. You had better have Bess with you. 

H. H. 

“It is almost twelve,” she thought, suddenly 
glancing up at the clock. “Shall I call Bess?” 
No. They would think it singular. I will see 
him alone, and trust to his skill to bring us out 
safely. Here he comes now. Come in," she 
whispered, opening the door softly. 

“Perhaps you had better lock it,” said Har¬ 
wood as he entered, “although I feel quite sure 
we shall have no interruption at present. I 
have locked the gentleman in his own room as 
snug as you please. He can’t get out, unless he 
raises the roof. Why, how you are trembling, 
Cad,” as she walked toward him and took her 
seat. “You have almost a nervous chill.” 


186 


‘BEHIND MASK 


“Bernice,” she muttered, her voice sounding 
harsh and quivering, “Bernice." 

“She is cosily tucked away in her own little 
bed, miles away from here—why, Cad?” 

She bent her head upon her hand, the tears 
rollng swiftly down her cheeks. 

“I did not mean to frighten you so. Come, 
be calm. I will tell you the whole affair, and 
you will see it is not so awfully bad. I have 
managed to get Moore cornered in the swindle 
he has been playing on Mrs. Bolton, or, that is, 
almost cornered, and he is just about crazy. He 
helped me out considerably tonight by confiding 
a lot of his troubles to me; but unfortunately 
he has succeeded in tracing in some way or oth¬ 
er—I cannot understand how, the prime mover 
against him, which you know is," tapping his 
chest significantly, “down into this locality. So 
he wired for a member of a private detective 
agency to come to his assistance. He got here 
yesterday. There’s the rub," he said ruefully, 
“got in a day ahead of me. The fellow went to 
work and tracked Mrs. Bolton out to your home. 
Yes, he saw the whole business,” he continued 
slowly, as she looked up startled, “Bernice and 
Sally and all. Mrs. Bolton, bless her foolish, 
pious, innocent heart, went so far as to hold 
some conversation with him; and said that Ber¬ 
nice was the child of the best friend she had in 


UNITED *AGAI&C 187 

the world and so forth, and that she was caring 
for it while its mother was away. I can’t for 
the life of me imagine how they have done it, 
but they have you mixed up in the affair also; 
and so they are thinking, mind you, it is only 
thinking, of carrying Bernice off, and holding 
her over Mrs. Bolton’s head, until she will sign 
a release of her debt against Moore. Had you 
taken your accustomed ride today, you would 
have run straight into him, for he was lying in 
wait to catch you, a thing they have none of 
them been able to do as yet—thanks to Caesar’s 
fleet steps. But now—” he paused to get his 
breath; “I have discovered the plot, and I think 
it best to send them away tomorrow morning. 
I want you to tell me where they shall go.” 

“Let me think a moment,” she answered slow¬ 
ly, rising to her feet and walking about the 
room, as she always did when pondering deeply. 

“Think away,” he smiled, leaning back in his 
seat and looking into the fire. “You will prob¬ 
ably suggest something I would never dream of.” 

“Things have changed now, you know,” coming 
to the fire place and leaning her arm on the 
mantel. 

“Yes, he has made a sad mistake tonight. 
They have not counted sufficiently on your hus¬ 
band’s love for you, although I am afraid it may 
do us some harm.” 


i88 


BEHIND *A MASK 


- “I am not Mrs. Brown any more,” a queer 
smile curling her lips, “poor Mrs. Brown,” she 
added, “what a down-trodden, persecuted creature 
you have been.” 

“Well, Mrs. Tearle,” answering her smile, 
“what may your thought be? Time is fleeing,” 
glancing towards the clock. 

“I should say that as far as I have got, my 
plan may work.” 

“And it is?" 

"That you send Mrs. Bolton away, and let 
Bernice remain where she is. But-" 

“You are going to ask what Mr. Grant will 
do? Send him after her?” 

“Still—” 

“Don’t interrupt,” half imperiously. "I am 
Mrs. Tearle, as you said a few moments ago. 
Mr. Moore hires the detective, and he cares 
nothing more about me at present. He has only 
followed me up in order to satisfy the hatred of 
my mother-in-law; therefore, you will see, as I 
have been put on a firm basis, where he cannot 
attack me, he will only desire to follow up his 
own particular enemy, Mrs. Bolton, and if you 
send her away alone, I will wager you anything 
you like, that he will send Mr. Grant after her, 
as he cannot very well go himself; and again, I 
think Bernice, could hardly be safer if she is 
guarded by Sally alone. My two boys on the 



UNITED 


189 


place I know would lay down their lives for me, 
and if any one could steal her away from them, 
after I have begged them not to allow her out 
of their sight, he would be clever indeed. At 
any rate, Moore can do nothing right away if 
Grant is gone, and should he try, I will invent 
some tale to bring Joe to the rescue, for he fears 
him more than any one else. I have finished; 
have you anything to say?” 

"Yes,” looking up into her face, as she bent 
toward him, "for good, sound wit commend me 
to a woman." 

"Oh," smiling faintly, "that is no answer.” 

"Yes, but it is. I approve entirely; but Cad, 
why can’t you confess now to your husband 
and—” 

"Harry!” a world of reproach sounding in her 
voice. "How can you? It is his strong affec¬ 
tion only that has guided him back to his faith 
in me. The blot is still there on my litttle an¬ 
gel’s head. No, it may be my duty to give up 
my child, but I would do it ten times over 
rather than she should ever suffer as I have for 
a stain on her honor. God forbid.” 

"But bye and bye,” he said softly, "what 
then?” 

“Bye and bye,” a beautiful light touching the 
plain features for a moment and rendering them 
divinely handsome; "bye and bye,” she repeated 


‘BEHIND MASK 


190 

gently, “then God in His own way, will have 
taken away this awful burden, and I shall be 
free, free, once more. Don’t you see, Harry?” 
she said eagerly, “what His mercy has already 
done for me? Reinstated me in my husband’s 
heart as the synonym of all he thinks pure and 
noble. Could I but tell you the marks of confi¬ 
dence he has already shown to me, you would see 
for yourself, you would realize as I do, that the 
All-wise Providence has not deserted me, but is 
working out the tangle in the best and surest 
way. ” 

“You are above me, Cad,” he almost whispered, 
“such perfect faith, such lack of doubt, can only 
come from One on high. You will get your de¬ 
serts, I am quite positive." 

“I feel it now as I have never done before, 
even with all your encouragement, and it is I 
who say, we will.” 

“So we will,” shaking her hand. “I shall ride 
over early to the farm and send Mrs. Bolton off 
on the first train.” 

“Not secretly, Harry; let them all see her go.” 

“Oh yes, certainly," he agreed. "Then we can 
sit down and take a breath while waiting for 
their next move.” 

* * * * 

“Oh, Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown!” called Lucy, 
as she ran swiftly down the hall to overtake 


UNITED AG-NIN 


'O' 

Cad and her husband who were on their way to 
the dining room. 

“Yes, my dear,” stopping and waiting for the 
girl to reach them. 

“Oh, I am so glad, so glad,” throwing her 
arms about her neck in a vigorous embrace. “I 
have hardly been able to sleep all night, thinking 
of it.” 

“You should say Mrs. Tearle,” said Joe smih 
ing. 

“Oh, I couldn’t,” said Lucy blushing. “1 
shall never be able to say that.” 

“Well, you can always say Cad,” said her 
friend, “and I am sure Mr. Tearle will not ob¬ 
ject to that." 

“Certainly not,” he returned, as he opened the 
door for them to pass through. 

The story of the previous evening’s event had 
traveled rapidly, and many a smiling face was 
turned upon the couple then entering the door. 

“Quite like a bride and groom, I do declare," 
said Mrs. Stone, turning to address Devine, who 
sat beside her. 

“I beg pardon; I did not hear,” he answered 
slowly, “what did you say?” 

“I said to look at the happy couple, who were 
almost bride and groom,” she repeated. 

“They do look contented, don’t they?” he said. 
“It does my heart good to see Mrs. Brown ap- 


192 


BEHIND *A MASK 


pearing like herself again. Fine fellow, Tearle, 
too. Dreadfully smitten with his wife. I am 
so glad they have made it up. I have thought 
all along it would end in something.” 

“Did you? So did I,” she answered, "but not 
quite like this,” she thought to herself. 

"We shall never be able to call you Mrs. 
Tearle, my dear,” Mrs. Tubbs said across the 
table. 

“Call me whatever you like best,” said Cad 
smiling. "I shall answer to both names, so as 
to relieve any difficulty which may arise on that 
score.” 

“Come up to my rooms, girls," she invited as 
she arose from breakfast, “I have something I 
wish to ask your advice about.” 

“We were wrong,” said Moore. He stood in 
the garden with his two ladies beside him. 
"Mrs. Bolton cares nothing for that little girl. 
If she did, or if it were necessary for her to 
mind the child, she would not have gone away 
fhis morning.” 

‘‘Yet, I have my doubts somehow about that 
child,” said Mrs. Tearle sagely. ‘‘She is con¬ 
cerned with us in some way, you will see. 
How, I do not know; but my presentiments are 
never wrong when they come with such force.” 

‘‘Fortunate,-however, that Mrs. Bolton went 


UNITED iAGAIN 


*93 


off to Boston,” said Moore. "Grant could never 
have remained here now, you know.' 

"Not after that simple Joe made him make 
such an abject apology to his wife,” she 
snapped. 

"Not too fast, dear,” put in Mrs. Stone gen¬ 
tly, "she bears your name, and you must also see 
that she is treated with respect.” 

"I presume I must, in company; but surely I 
can speak my mind here with you, can’t I?” 

"What worries me most,” said Moore, passing 
over the references to Cad, "is, who locked 
Grant in his room last night? And not only 
turned the key, but put a spring to it? Har¬ 
wood told me he would like to bet it was Joe. 
Said he saw him in the hall when it was very 
late.” 

"Of course that is who it was," said Mrs. 
Tearle quickly. "Why, of course. Don’t you 
see, Joe wanted to keep him here until he had 
apologized to Cad. He was afraid Grant would 
get away.” 

"In my opinion,” said Mrs. Stone quietly, "it 
would have been better if he had not come, for 
he made an awful mess of it. Of course, after he 
had attacked her so foolishly, he had to stand 
his ground." 

"Oh, Jenny, please do not let us discuss that 
Behind A Mask 13 


194 


BEHIND *A MASK 


again. It makes me feel sick to think about it, 
and we said all we could say last night.” 

"I was only bidding good riddance,” her 
friend replied imperturably. 

"I wish all our troubles went as easily” 
groaned Moore. "I have just about given up all 
hopes; I feel as if there was a net being gathered 
around me that was coiling closer and closer, 
with no way of escape.” 

"Give that woman her money,” cried Mrs. 
Tearle sharply, “and your troubles will cease at 
once.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?" 

“They will not accept it. I have offered it.” 

“Goodness me, what will you do?" 

“I wish you could tell me,” he said brokenly. 

“But there,” raising his head and standing 
erect, “I have got out of worse holes than this 
before and I will now. I shall go up to Boston 
myself, tomorrow, and like you, Ella, I have a 
presentiment that I shall be a gainer by the 
trip." 

* * * * * 

“The queerest thing happened to me this morn¬ 
ing, Cad,” said Joe. He lay in his chair, blow¬ 
ing little clouds of smoke from his mouth, and 
lazily watching them, as they curled up into the 
air. 


UNITED zAGAIfrQ 195 

"Yes, what was it?” turning about from the 
window to face him, for they were in their own 
room. 

"You remember that sweet little girl I found 
up in the woods that day. Who is it?” he asked 
as she turned abruptly and looked out of the win¬ 
dow. 

"No one, "she said quickly. "Yes, I remember, 
that little girl who said her name was Brown. 
"What of her?” 

"No, she said she lived at Brown’s,” he cor¬ 
rected. 

"Oh, I forgot. So she did.” 

"Well, Mrs. Bolton, an old acquaintance of ours, 
has been visiting for some time at her people’s 
home, a lovely place—probably you know it— 
over at the foot of the mountains.” 

"Yes, I know the place you mean,” still look¬ 
ing out of the window. 

"And I have seen quite a good deal of her 
lately. ” 

“Indeed?" she said calmly, although her pulse 
was beating furiously, and she heard such a sing¬ 
ing in her ears that his voice sounded afar off. 

"And do you know,” he went on after a long 
pull on his cigar, "I have grown so fond of that 
child. You can’t imagine. Her mother must 
be a beautiful character, (Mrs. Bolton said she 
was away visiting) for I never heard a child so 


196 


‘BEHIND MASK 


young express such beautiful ideas. No one but 
a mother could instill such thoughts into her 
little brain. It has needed time and patience, I am 
sure, to do so. As I was going to say, I rode over 
there today to see her, and to find out how she 
was getting along since the old lady left her; but 
I was met at the gate by one of the large stout 
country fellows who work on the place with, 
‘very sorry, sir, but you can’t come in today. 
My orders are that no more visitors are to be ad¬ 
mitted.’ M 

“'But I came to see little Bernice,’ I said 
quickly. 'It is Mr. Tearle,’ said the little one, 
darting out from behind a tree. 'Oh, Jim, please 
let me see him.’ ‘No, you can’t, dear,’ said the 
big fellow, as he gently raised her in his arms. 

‘You can’t see nor speak to anyone until mam¬ 
ma gets home.’ But she stays away so long, Jim,’ 
she said pitifully. ‘I know I shall die pretty 
soon, if I don’t see her.’ So he carried her off 
and left me standing outside the gate, my heart 
full of pity for the sweet child. Awfully strange 
affair for a country place. I can’t quite make it 
out, unless it is to teach the child not to speak to 
anyone for fear of tramps.” 

“You have such a good heart, Joe,” she mur¬ 
mured walking swiftly to his chair and bending 
over him. “I am a lucky woman indeed to have 
such a noble husband. " 


UNITED AG<Al&£ 


197 


“I don’t know so much about that,” he replied 
turning his head away and pulling savagely at 
his cigar. 

“Oh, Joe, Joe, my husband, it must—it shall 
come,” she cried suddenly as she sank down be¬ 
side him and put her arms about his neck. “I 
want to love you—I know that I do; and yet—" 

“And yet you don’t, darling?” he said gently, 
putting his arm about her. “I have seen only 
too well how hard you have tried to give me 
back your old love ever since we have been to¬ 
gether, but to no purpose.” 

“But I know that down in the bottom of my 
heart the love still burns as brightly as ever,” 
turning her honest eyes to his, “and why it does 
not thrill my being with the old joy, I cannot 
conceive. I have tried, Joe.” 

“Yes, I just said so; but one cannot love with 
the trying, pet. It is spontaneous. All or noth¬ 
ing. Oh, Ca4, it is I, it is I," he burst forth 
passionately, “who created a shadow so black be¬ 
tween us, that it seems that it would never 
lighten, never go away. I realize only too well, 
when your lips would meet mine with the 
old time fervor, this dark spectre comes be¬ 
tween. I realize only too well, when you 
throw your arms about me in a loving em¬ 
brace, that the same grim demon rises up 
before your vision and your clasp grows weak and 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


198 

at length falls slowly away from me. You for¬ 
give, Cad—you have, but you have not forgotten; 
no, you have not forgotten," he continued sadly, 

"But I will forget, Joe. I tell you I will," ris¬ 
ing and standing before him. "With all your 
goodness and love showered upon me, I feel 
mean and debased in my own eyes that I cannot 
at least make a return for some of the intense 
love that is given to me. I know I shall suc¬ 
ceed. " 

"You cannot force it, Cad. Such inspirations 
as love and faith one cannot compel to come, even 
though he die without them. I do not complain," 
turning a pair of kindly, but miserable looking 
eyes upon her. 

"That is just it," she objected, "if you did, I 
should feel differently, perhaps; but the very 
lack of censure shows how deep your suffering 
must be, and it breaks my heart to give you 
pain.” Her eyes were full of tears. 

"I have more than I deserve, Cad. I have 
you. It is more than I ever hoped for." 

"And you shall have me—me in reality," she 
whispered in a lighter tone. "Patience is a great 
virtue, dear, and we must both learn it," gently 
pressing a kiss on his broad, white brow. Then 
she left him and went into the next room. 

"Oh, Cad, I got a letter," as she entered the 
door—"forgot all about it." 


UNITED AGzAWT^ 199 

"From whom?" 

"I am not a woman," drawing himself up in a 
diginfied, insulted manner, "it is only a woman 
who can tell one everything a letter contains be¬ 
fore she opens it." 

"Let me see it," bending over him. 

"Like all the rest, she wants to read it through 
the envelope." 

"It is from Harry. Read it," she exclaimed, 
laughing at his nonsense. 

"Oh, Cad, I shall tell Bess. Poor Bess; it 
will break her heart, I am sure. He says to tell 
you—tell you, do you hear that? Well, never 
mind, I am not jealous. I might be, if he had 
not been strutting around with his heart pinned 
oh to his sleeve for so long." 

"Oh, go on, Joe. I am fairly wild with curios¬ 
ity. Please don’t tease me so." 

"Woman’s curse that, curiosity. But there, I 
won’t tantalize you any mdre,” taking up the let¬ 
ter. "He says to tell you he has been getting on 
very well, and will be back tomorrow." 

"What else does he say?" as he went on read¬ 
ing to himself. 

"Nothing more. Here, read it for yourself. 
Then run and find Bess, and tell her the good 
news." 

“Yes, it will be good news to Bess, poor 
child. She has missed Harwood dreadfully," 


200 


f BEHIND A MzASK 


she replied as she laid the letter on the table. 

“Why, haven’t they made it up between them 
yet? Do you know? They have been carrying 
their affection for each other written all over 
themselves for such a long time, that it is get¬ 
ting tedious. You seem to be in the confidence 
of both of them, and I wish you would relieve 
me of my curiosity, if you can.” 

"A man shouldn’t have any curiosity, Joe,” she 
said gravely. “That is a woman’s curse.” 

“Don’t twit, Cad. It is a horrid form, espe¬ 
cially between a husband and wife. Come, tell 
me.” 

“Why should they make their sweet secret pub¬ 
lic property?” 

“Sweet secret—nonsense!” in a tone of dis¬ 
gust. 

“I have my doubts about their having made it 
up between them long ago, although I must con¬ 
fess to its being only a doubt. Harwood is at 
present working on a most delicate affair, and I 
presume he wishes to extricate himself before—” 

“Getting deep in the toils of another, eh?” 
he interrupted. “At any rate, you will be saved 
the trouble of carrying out your original inten¬ 
tion and adopting the dear little thing, won’t 
you?” 

“I don’t know about that. I shall always love 
the child as if she were my own." 


UNITED zAGtAI&C 


201 


“Listen to the old lady.” 

“Old in experience, dear—years older than 
Bess. ” 

“Has Harwood money?” 

“He seems to have, but she would be a most 
fortunate girl if he had not a penny, for he is a 
clever fellow, and I am sure his wife would nev¬ 
er want for this world’s goods. And I know he 
will be devotion itself.” 

"Oh, you do?” meaningly. 

“Most assuredly, I do, for he is as true a 
friend as it has ever been my good fortune to 
meet. ” 

“I know he must be, for you have told me so 
very often since we have been reunited.” 

“And I hope to be able to prove my words to 
you, but—” 

“No buts, dearie; when you learn to trust me 
again, I shall receive the confidence which you 
now deny me. No, you need not reply. It is not 
necessary. I am the soul of patience, and I can 
wait. I have learned my lesson too well, Cad. 
I know to whom I speak.” 

“I thank you.” 

“You are not obliged to, dear; and to brighten 
up your sweet face, come and have a canter with 
me. I am but a melancholy companion some¬ 
times, I am afraid.” 

“Oh, but you are not, Joe. You are growing 


202 


f BEHIND *A MASK 


more like yourself every day,” she said earn¬ 
estly. 

"Am I?” he said with a grateful smile. "Well, 
go and jump into your habit and don’t stand 
talking so long about it.” 

* * * * * * * * 

It is seven o’clock and the stage is drawing up 
at the hotel entrance seemingly empty. 

"Oh, dear, he has not come,” said Mrs. Tearle 
in disappointment. "I wonder what 'the trouble 
is.” 

"Yes, he has,” cried Mrs. Stone. "And there 
he is now*.” 

"Good evening, Ella, good evening Jennie; 
how are you both?” exclaimed Moore, running 
up the stairs and shaking hands. 

"Have you succeeded?” asked Mrs. Tearle im¬ 
mediately. 

"I think so,” he returned smiling. "Wait 
until I have my supper, and then I will inform 
you of my journey, and you may judge for 
yoursel f. ” 

"I cannot eat a morsel," she said at the table. 
"The food positively chokes me." 

"Keep cool, my friend," he answered. "It is 
an exceedingly bad habit to excite yourself 
while eating. It seriously impairs your diges¬ 
tion." 

"How happy you seem to be, Albert. I do 


UNITED eAGz/UN 


203 


hope it is for some good. Come, Jennie,” she 
cried impatiently, "I can’t stand this a moment 
longer. Come up to the room when you are fin¬ 
ished, ” she said to Moore as she was leaving. 

“So I will, so I will,” he promised smiling. 

“Mr. Harwood did not comedown with me this 
evening, Mrs. Brown—Oh, I beg pardon, I should 
say Mrs. Tearle,” he said across the table to Cad. 

“So I see. Did you expect him? she asked 
quietly. 

“No, but I thought that perhaps you did. ” 

“I got a letter from him today,” interposed Joe, 
“saying he would not be able to come.” 

“Oh, you did. When is he coming?” 

“Before long, he thinks. Did you enjoy your 
trip?” 

“Oh, immensely, immensely. I met Mr. 
Grant, Mrs. Tearle, and he wished me to apolo¬ 
gize to you once more. Said he really did not 
know what possessed him, that he must have 
been crazy. I am afraid he isn’t quite right 
sometimes”—tapping his forehead lightly—“in 
fact he has been down here visiting in the 
neighborhood in order to recuperate his strength 
after a severe illness. Beautiful country about 
here he says. Places he is sure our hotel 
people have never visited. Oh, by the way, you 
have been here for a number of years and know 
the country very well. Can you tell me where 


204 


BEHIND *A {MASK 


there is a foundling hospital in this locality? 
He says it is the finest one in the state, is not 
twenty miles from here and that it is well worth 
paying a visit to. Do you know its location?” 

“I think he must be mistaken, ” said Cad slowly 
knitting her brows as if in an endeavor to recall 
such an institution but really to give herself 
time to collect her thoughts, for the blow had 
struck straight home and it was only her perfect 
self-command that enabled her to receive it 
without a sign. “Surely I would have heard of 
it,” she said after a moment’s pause, “for I have 
ridden about so much.” 

“I thought perhaps you might know for that 
reason,” he said carelessly, “for I am particularly 
interested in such asylums myself, and I made up 
my mind to look this one up after Grant’s de¬ 
scription. I am sorry you cannot oblige me;” 
and he arose and bowed himself out. 

“I don’t wonder we have not succeeded before," 
he exclaimed, as he sat himself down in Mrs. 
Tearle’s room, with his companions on either 
side of him. “That woman is a masterpiece, by 
George." 

"What has she done now? ” they asked together. 

“I will tell you the whole story, so listen at¬ 
tentively." 

“My heavens!” ejaculated Mrs. Tearle when he 


UNITED cAGAIN 


205 

had finished his tale. “Did you ever hear any¬ 
thing to equal it?” 

“What a stupid that Grant was not to tell you 
this before; but then I presume he was thinking 
more about Mrs. Bolton than anything else,” 
Mrs. Stone remarked. 

“Yes, but he did the best piece of work of all 
when he managed to scrape her acquaintance on 
the cars. How clever of him to disguise him¬ 
self,” said Mrs. Tearle. 

“Oh, I knew he was no fool,” said Moore com¬ 
placently. “What do you think of it all?” 

“That I was not mistaken in that woman, and 
that I could never believe she was so much more 
perfect than the rest of her sex. But to whom 
does the child belong? We must know that now. 
I wonder who the man is.” 

“You haven’t told us yet who your individual 
enemy is,” interrupted Mrs. Stone. "Did you 
find that out also?” 

“Oh, yes,” rubbing his hands with evident sat¬ 
isfaction, “I found that out too. Harwood.” 

“Harwood?” they cried in a breath. 

“Harwood,” nodding his head slowly in affir¬ 
mation. 

“The—the—” Mrs. Tearle began. 

“Yes, the devil,” he finished coolly. “But do 
not excite yourself, he has not succeeded; oh, no, 


206 


BEHIND cMz/ISK 


given up the case. I knew I was too safe. They 
can’t catch me napping.’ 

“Who would have dreamed it?" she ejaculated. 

“Oh, I smelt a mouse as soon as he dropped us 
and took up Mrs. Brown’s company after she and 
Joe made it up. That was my reason for going 
to Boston. My presentiment for good has been 
fulfilled, don’t you thinfc? ” smiling blandly at his 
friends. 

“Yes,” they nodded. 

“And now I have a little scheme on 
hand which will rout them all out—a perfect 
coup de grace. It needs your delicate polishing 
off to make it perfect, Ella; so I will lay it be¬ 
fore you, and we can all three give our opinions 
and judge of the best manner in which to carry 
it into execution," 


CHAPTER VII 

A SAD STORY 

"Cad, my dear, something is dreadfully amiss 
with you,” said her husband gently, pulling her 
down into a chair beside him. "I only want to 
ask you one question about it—may I?” 

"Yes, Joe.” 

"Is it anymore trouble caused by my mother?” 
"No.” 

"Then I can say nothing. If it were,” his face 
darkening, "I should know what to do, but you 
are more nervous and upset than I have ever seen 
you. The least sound startles you; the opening 
of a door makes you jump, and it grieves me to 
see you so. Poor little girl; I shall be glad to 
leave this place and take you away where I can 
perhaps bring back the color to your cheeks and 
the light to your eyes. The long strain this 
summer has completely undone you. My mother 
has treated you courteously since we have been 
together? ” 

"Yes, dear; she has been politeness itself.” 

"Mrs. Stone, also? No sly, sarcastic remarks 
behind my back?" 

‘None worth speaking of. What time is it?” 

207 


20 8 


BEHIND A ZMtASK 


rising from her chair and walking aimlessly 
about from the window to the fire and back to 
the window. 

“Half past six,” pulling out his watch. “Oh, 
you are thinking of Harwood. I forgot he was 
coming. ” 

“Did you?” 

“Let us go down the road and meet him.” 

So it happened, that Harwood, who like Mr. 
Moore the previous evening, was the only occu¬ 
pant of the stage, heard the driver ordered to 
halt and deliver, and the next instant Tearle’s 
face appeared at the door, saying: 

“Come, jump out of this. In place of searching 
your pockets for your wealth, we intend to carry 
you off bodily, true western style. Here, don’t 
look so upset. One would think it was genuine 
to see your face. Come,” grasping his arm, 
“here are Cad and Bess over in the carriage wait¬ 
ing for you. Pull him in, girls,” he called gaily 
when he reached them, “and I will send the horses 
along so as to escape pursuit.” 

“What is it, Harry? You look badly,” Cad 
said, after the greetings were over. 

“Have you been staying up too late nights?” 
asked Bess shyly. 

“Oh, Miss Bess,” put in Tearle, turning about 
to laugh. “Plere, Harwood, confess yourself ; you 
might as well, you know, if you have a woman 


SzAD STORY 


209 


on each side of you. They will surely get it 
out in the end.” 

“Do I look so blue and fagged as all that?” 
said Harwood, with a faint smile. “To tell the 
truth, I have been considerably bothered and 
worried, and I have not yet recovered. I shall 
in a day or two with such congenial compan¬ 
ions,” looking first at Cad and then into Bess’s 
brown eyes. “I have not a doubt of it,” pulling 
himself together and endeavoring to wear his 
usual happy manner. “Oh, I want to tell you,” 
he broke out suddenly. 

“Naow, dew tell,” said Joe laughing. 

“Don’t mind him, Harry,” interposed Cad, 
catching a surprised expression on Harwood’s 
face. “He is full of such nonsense.” 

“Or has been ever since we have found you 
were Mrs. Tearle,” said Bess. “You never saw 
such a change.” 

“For the better,” finished Joe promptly. “To 
be sure, why not? What were you about to re¬ 
mark? ” 

“I was going to say,” said Harwood, and he 
commenced an anecdote which brought forth 
bursts of laughter that rang out in the still air 
as they drew up at the hotel. 

•‘Have your laugh now while you can,” mut¬ 
tered Moore, who stood on the porch as they ap- 
Behind A Mask 14 


210 


BEHIND A DAMASK 


peared. “I will have mine before long,” he 
thought grimly. 

“How gay you all are,” Mrs. Tearle said, as 
she stopped to greet Harwood in the hall as 
they were walking toward her son’s room. 

“Aren’t we, mother?” said Joe. “You should 
hear Harwood, though. He has been telling us 
of some jolly times he had in Boston, and they 
were very funny,- I assure you.” 

“We all know what good company Mr. Har¬ 
wood is," she replied pleasantly, and with a nod 
and smile passed on to her room. 

"Miss Bess,” said Tearle after a short time 
spent in general conversation, “let us go and find 
Miss Tubbs and Co., and bring them up here 
where we can have a quiet little jollification to 
commemorate our friend’s return. Good bye, 
Harwood; we will be back in a few moments," 
and drawing the girl’s hand through his arm, he 
led her gaily away. 

“He is just like that all the time,” said Cad 
slowly, as the door closed behind them. “You 
never conceived of such absolute confidence as 
he places in me now. I can remember the time 
when he was so insanely jealous that I hardly 
dared to look one way or the other for fear of 
displeasing him. Poor Joe,” 

“And poor Gad," added Harwood; “how badly 
it must make you feel," 


A StAD STO%Y 


211 


"Oh, it will be all right some time.” 

"Yes, some time,” he said with a sad tone. 

"You were not successful, then, in your busi¬ 
ness?" she asked quietly. 

"In part I was. I have accumulated all the 
evidence necessary to make Mr. Moore disgorge 
his ill-gotten riches." 

"Oh, have you, Harry?” she cried joyously. 
"Dear Mrs. Bolton, I am so glad for her. Then 
what makes you feel so blue and low spirited?” 

"I have not succeeded for you, Cad,” his head 
sinking on his breast, "and—” 

"And what else, dear? There is something 
troubling you besides that,” rising and crossing 
the room where she stood leaning over the back 
of his chair. "Come, Harry, tell me. It will 
ease your burden, if you have one, to tell it to 
me; and you know how deeply I will feel all that 
concerns you, my best friend.” 

"I have a brother, Cad; did you know it?” 
looking up into her face with a sad expression 
on his own. 

"Yes, George Devine told me so a long time 
ago, and you did yourself that night on the 
farm. 

"So I did. I forgot that," he returned. "He 
has been a sad trial for me," he went on, his 
voice full of sorrow. "I am not a prig, Cad, I 
believe in a fellow having a good time, and all 


212 


BEHIND A SMASH 


that, but I don’t believe in cards and drunken¬ 
ness. There is a limit, and every man should 
know it and keep it within bounds. I have been 
willing to pay his debts and keep him straight 
as I could as long as he wronged no one but 
himself; but, oh God, how can I tell you, that 
now he has disgraced his honor, and mine too. 
That he may at any time be caught and tried 
for his crime that will put him in state prison. 
I cannot help him; I would give him every cent 
I have in the world to do so, but it is no use; 
and his enemy, the man who holds his fate—my 
fate—in his hands, is—is, Albert Moore,” he 
burst out in anguish. "What can I do? Mrs. 
Bolton must have her rights, and I—I—poor 
Bess,” he cried; and bending his head on his 
arms, he broke down completely. "I would not 
mind for myself,” he continued after a pause, 
raising his sorrow stricken face, "but my poor 
little sweetheart. After all our happy summer 
spent so joyously together, when no word of 
love needed to be spoken between us, we had 
told our secrets to each other so well—what will 
she think of me? I cannot offer such a name to 
cast a blot over her pure young life. What 
shall I do?” 

"Does Mr. Moore know all this, Harry?" 

"No. Will confesseed it ail to me yesterday. 
Thank God, he is not quite lost to all sense 


A SASD STORY 


213 


of honor, for he refuses absolutely to take any 
part in some devilish scheme which Moore is 
plotting, prefering to be accused and convicted 
of his crime than to perform the action required 
of him. He has an alias, poor misguided boy; 
he has thought that would hide his idenity and 
not bring his shame onto me, for with all his 
faults, we are very fond of each other.” 

“Poor Harry,” she said soothingly with a 
heart full of sympathy thrilling in the low 
sweet tone, “I am so sorry, so sorry for you.” 

“I know, Cad,’" pressing his hand across his 
eyes. 

“What is his alias?” she asked after a pause. 

“Douglas.” z 

“What?” she almost screamed, staggering 
back from his seat. 

“I said Douglas. Oh, Cad, what is it? Don’t 
faint, dear,” jumping to his feet and steadying 
her swaying form against him; “come, speak.” 

“Have—have—you—what does he look like?” 
she asked incoherently, stepping back from his 
supporting arm and leaning heavily on the back 
of the chair with her eyes wide open, her lips 
parted, and her face ghastly in color. 

“What does he look like?” he repeated in a 
wondering tone. “Why—oh, by Jove, I have his 
picture here; I will show it to you,” pulling out 
his pocket book. “There, that is he.” 


‘BEHIND A (MASK 


214 


“It is, it is,” she stammered violently. The 
words seemed to stick in her throat. Her 
power of articulation appeared gone from her 
and she could only point to the pictured face 
with shaking hand and trembling limbs. 

“It is, it is what, Cad?” he cried, placing his 
hand on her shoulder and giving her a shake. 

“The man—” 

"What man? Come, compose yourself, my dear. 
Do not be so frightened. Tell me what man?” 

“Your brother—no, no—I can’t tell you.” 

“Why, Cad, you talk in riddles. Tell me, 
have you ever seen this face before?” 

“No.” The word had a hard, metallic sound as 
it dropped from her lips, and she turned away. 

“Then why this—Cad," he cried abrubtly, 
seizing her hand and swinging her about so that 
she stood face to face with him, “where did you 
see my brother? I command you to tell me.” 

“And I refuse.” 

“No, you do not. By your silence you confess 
it. He must be the man whom they found-“ 

“No, Harwood,” she cried violently. 

"You are trying to save me at your own ex¬ 
pense, and Twill find out the truth if I have to 
wrirg it from him by force. So you see I have the 
upper hand.” 

“Oh, Harry,” she cried suddenly drawing her- 



A StAV STORY 21 $ 

Self to her full height, her eyes gleaming/ 1 I see 
our way clear by this.” 

“Listen,” and she poured a rapid tale into 
his ear. “Can’t we do it?” she asked feverishly 
when she had finished. 

“By Jove, we can,” he answered thoughtfully, 
“and we will too. Oh, Cad,* Cad,*we are saved, 
both of us. Do you hear? And just when the 
clouds seemed darkest. I will go to Boston to¬ 
morrow. Ah, Mr. Moore, God don’t forsake the 
righteous, which you will learn to your cost, and 
Bess, my Bess, ypu may still be mine. 

“Sh,” Cad warned quickly. “Here come the 
folks. I must bathe my eyes. Light a cigar 
and compose yourself.” She glided softly 
through the portieres into the other room, as 
the door opened on a noisy group. 

“Where is Cad? 1 '' cried Lucy, who was the first 
to enter. 

“Where is she, Harwood?” asked Tearle, look¬ 
ing about the room. "Account for her disap¬ 
pearance, Mister,” said Devine, striding dramaD 
ically across the floor, “or—” 

“I am here,” came the low, musical voice, 
which always lent her such a charm, as she 
emerged from behind the curtains. “Hold, 
friends, do not wrongly accuse thy good comrade, 
and thy boon companion in so many of the hal¬ 
cyon pleasures of days not long since gone by. 


‘BEHIND A MqASK 


216 

I am here—I—bring out the tumblers, Joe, and 
let us have a glass of champagne, to celebrate 
not only Harwood’s return to us, but to his good 
spirits as well.” 

“A relapse to the stern realities of life,” cried 
her husband as a shout of laughter went up at 
her curious, broken remarks. “Where is the ice, 
fair madame?” 

“Down in the refrigerator, I suppose. Ring 
the bell.” 

“I fly,” exclaimed Devine, touching the button. 

“Oh, don’t,” said Lucy; “you will miss the 
wine.” 

“May he live long and be prosperous,” said 
Joe, lifting his glass to his lips and nodding to^ 
ward Harwood, who, leaning against the mantel, 
was watching Bess so intently that he did not 
hear the toast proffered in his honor. 

“Eh, what did you say?" he asked perplexed' 
ly, absently holding his wine in his hand a& 
they crowded in a close circle about him and 
pushed their glasses in his face. 

“I said may you live long and be prosperous,” 
repeated Joe, “and were you so far off in the 
clouds, you—" 

“Step down, Harold,” put in George; “you 
are riding too high up. We all know that you 
hold communion with the gods, but just put off 


A SAT> SrO%Y 217 

your present little seance until some more befit¬ 
ting occasion.” 

“And let us tempt you back to dear old mother 
earth with the nectar even the gods themselves 
would not refuse,” said Cad. 

“I am here,” commenced Harwood in a grave 
tone, but with twinkling eyes. “I—” 

“Then drink, pretty creature, drink,” interrupt¬ 
ed Tearle quickly, “the fiz is going; we will 
get but the dregs.” 

“Which you will find not bitter, but sweet, 
Harry. So drink one, drink all,” and she set the 
example by raising the liquor to her lips. 

“I consider myself insulted,” said Harwood, 
putting down his glass. “I don’t believe you 
poeple know what good manners are anyway. 
Wherever I have been and a toast was offered, 
the recipient of the honor has been expected 
and did return the same by suitable remarks.” 

“But, Harry,” cried Cad, “you did. You 
couldn’t have said more nor responded more ap¬ 
propriately.” 

“What did I say, I should like to know?” 

“Oh, enough, ‘I am here,’” she repeated. 

“Yes, what more do you expect?” Devine said 
seriously. “Content yourself. You would have 
spoiled a good speech if we had not cut you 
off. ” 

“Can I come in a moment?” said a pleasant 


2 l8 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


voice from the doorway. “I have been trying for 
five minutes to make myself heard.” 

^ “Why, most certainly you can, Mrs. Tubbs,” ex¬ 
claimed Cad, starting forward. “We shall be de¬ 
lighted to have you join us. We have been toast¬ 
ing Mr. Harwood’s return to us.” 

“I thought you must be pleasantly engaged, 
for your laughing voices reached me away down 
the hall, and I have come to give you a piece of 
news I think you will be pleased to hear." 

“What is it, Mamma?” cried Lucy. “I thought 
you must have come for something.” 

“What do you say of a grand ball?" 

“A grand ball? Where? Here?” said Cad. 

“Yes, here. Mr. Hill told us this evening, 
after you left the dining room, that he intended 
giving a farewell dance, as his guests were be¬ 
ginning to depart so rapidly, and that he should 
spare neither trouble nor expense to make it a 
success." 

“Long life to Mr. Hill,” said Devine. “I al¬ 
ways considered him and his hotel the most per¬ 
fect summer resort I ever visited. What will 
you wear, Lucy?" he exclaimed, turning towards 
his fiancee with such a ridiculously serious air 
that they all burst out laughing. “You needn’t 
laugh,” lie said reproachfully. “I am only initiat¬ 
ing myself into the secrets of conjugal felicity.” 

“Well said, George,” upheld Mrs. Tubbs, "you 


A SAT) STCFRY 


219 


are quite right. The question of dress is very 
agitating, especially to poor mothers like me. I 
have decided to take Lucy up to Boston day 
after tomorrow and let her choose for herself; 
and oh, of course, you must go with us, Bess,” 
the kind-hearted lady finished quickly. 

"That is a foregone conclusion,” said Cad pleas¬ 
antly. 

“When is this affair to take place? ” asked Har¬ 
wood. 

"A week from tonight.” 

"I think I have a little business in Boston I 
ought to attend to—” George began, when Joe in¬ 
terrupted him with: 

"Now, look here, Devine, speak out like a man, 
and don’t beat about the bush.” 

"What would you expect me to do if my candle 
goes out?” he returned laughing. 

"I will box your ears as sure as you live if 
you call me a candle,” said Lucy with asperity. 

"My light, then—the light of my heart, the 
light of my existence, oh fair lady,” sinking on 
one knee before her. 

“How many glasses of wine have you folks 
been taking?” asked Mrs. Tubbs, when their 
merriment had subsided again. 

"One, me mother,” said George. 

"Well, that one must have had the desired 
effect then, ” she returned. "I shall be completely 


220 


BEHIND *A MASK 


demoralized if I stay longer in such company," 
rising from her seat and speaking with well as¬ 
sumed severity. "I must bid you good night. I 
can no longer remain in such an atmosphere." 

"Don’t go, Mrs. Tubbs," said Cad. "We 
would like to have you remain the rest of the 
evening with us." 

"It is long past my bed-time, thank you 
kindly," she replied smiling, "and then again, I 
heard very suspicious noises in my room as I 
passed, and goodness knows, what those little 
scamps of mine are not up to. Mary is out to¬ 
night, and I expect they are holding high car¬ 
nival in consequence. Good-night, all." 

"The little wretches," said George. "They 
are enough to drive one insane. You never know 
when they are not going to turn up. Just as like 
as not you—" 

"Do not tell tales out of school, Devine," in¬ 
terrupted Joe, "look at ' Miss Lucy’s face. 
Peonies are nothing compared with it." 

"It is enough to make a fellow vexed," he re¬ 
turned, "Lucy is not blushing, are you?" turning 
to look at her. "No, that is just your foolish¬ 
ness. But suppose you were to find a future 
little brother-in-law behind every bench you—" 

"That is right," Joe interposed again, "now 
put your other.boot in." 

"For goodness sake, George, do keep still, 


<^ SAT STORY 


22 


said Lucy, her face a bright red, “you will be 
telling everything you do before--” 

“Well, listen to that, ” interrupted her lover in 
a disgusted voice. “I am sure I have not said 
half as much as that.” 

“If I should advise,” said Cad, “it would be 
that you would both hold your peace.” 

“What makes you so quiet, Harwood?” said 
George, looking toward that gentleman, who had 
not joined in the conversation, excepting by his 
smiling looks. 

"I am thinking," he replied. 

"Pleasant thoughts?” asked Bess. 

"Very—more so than I thought I should ever 
indulge in again.” 

"I think I shall go to bed,” said Devine ris¬ 
ing. “I have kept still as long as I can;” he 
had been listening to the others in silence for 
some time. They were discussing the coming 
festivities. 

“I think we had all better do the same, ' said 
Harwood as he also arose from his seat. “Good¬ 
night and good-bye to you all.” 

“Good-bye!” ejaculated Joe in astonishment. 
“What on earth do you mean, you only just come? ” 

“Yes, but I find on my arrival that I must just 
return. I will get here for the ball, sure. Per¬ 
haps before. Good-night. 


222 


HEN I NT) *A {MASK 


“Mr. Harwood,” said a low voice, as a slight 
girlish form appeared from out of the semi-dark¬ 
ness of the porch and stood before him as he lay 
stretched out on his long chair. 

“Miss Bess!” he exclaimed, starting up from 
his seat and standing beside her. “What is the 
trouble?” 

“Nothing particular,” she said quickly, “only 
I had something to say to you alone,” pausing 
before the last word, “and I was afraid I should 
not find the opportunity in the morning.” 

“What is it?” he asked gently. “Sit down here 
in this chair. That wrap you have on is too 
thin for this cold night. I will get you a rug.” 

“Stop,” she commanded, “I shall only be a 
moment. I have to confess something to you 
which I could not sleep with on my conscience.” 

“Confess something to me, Bess?” he did not 
notice how he had addressed her. 

“Yes, it happened tonight; and, oh, I am so 
sorry about it. Mr. Tearle and I went in search 
of Lucy and Mr. Devine," she spoke hurriedly. 

“We found them all in the library, and they 
did not seem to want to go up to the room right 
away, so I slipped off and went up alone. I 
knocked on the door and no one answered. You 
were both so busy talking. I knocked again, and 
I thought I heard Cad say ‘Come in/ so I opened 
the door and I heard all you said.” 


SAT STORY 


223 


She stopped abruptly. 

"You heard all I said?” he repeated slowly, 
"all?” 

"Yes, that is enough. I—oh, do not be angry 
with me,” raising a pleading face which a streak 
of gas-light from the window streamed upon. “I 
heard all about your brother doing something 
wrong, and you took the shame on yourself and 
said that—that—” 

"Said what, dear?” a light beginning to dawn 
upon him. 

"You said, what would I think of you, and 
that—that you could be nothing more to me any 
more.” Her head sank onto her breast as she 
finished. "But I want to tell you,” she stam¬ 
mered, and then suddenly she raised her face 
again and went bravely on, although he could see 
she was very pale with emotion. "I want to 
tell you I do not care. What is your brother's 
sin, if he has one, to you? You didn't commit 
it; you would not. And, oh, Mr. Harwood, if 
you are going to be in trouble, if you are going 
to have a deep sorrow to bear, won't you let 
your friends help you?” 

"My dear little girl," said the deep, tender 
voice, "Bess," he cried suddenly, stepping nearer 
to her and opening his arms. "Come.” 

With one quick move she was close in his em¬ 

brace. 


224 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“Tell me,” he whispered softly, looking deep 
down into the liquid eyes. 

"I love you," she murmured, and then hid her 
face on his shoulder. 

“My little wife," he whispered, “I shall never, 
never forget your unselfish act. Only my little 
timid Bess, made brave by her supreme trust in 
her lover, would have done such a thing. I can 
never repay such perfect devotion. Will you 
kiss me?” he whispered gently raising her face 
from his breast; “oh darling, darling, I love you 
with all my soul," and then their lips met in the 
first long kiss of love, and earth seemed a heaven 
to them as they tasted for the first time the joys - 
of a love as pure and spotless as ever throbbed 
in the hearts of man and woman. 

“Darling little one," said Harwood, after a half 
hour spent in the most bewildering maze of hap¬ 
piness, “what a pleasure it is that I'shall be able 
to be with you when I am up in town." 

“Isn’t it?" she smiled back at him, “I should 
have been so lonesome. I must go now, Harry," 
hesitating prettily on the name new to her lips, 
but not to her thoughts. “It must be dreadfully 
late. I don’t know what Lucy will think.” 

“Do not waken her,” he said happily. “She 
is dreaming of George as fast as ever she can. I 
know." 


A S*AD STO%Y 225 

“How are you so sure of that?” she asked 
saucily. 

“I speak from experience, my dear. I have 
had my nights full of thoughts for you for ever 
and ever so long.” 

“So have I,” she replied slyly. 

“Bess, you are the sweetest, dearest little wife 
that ever blessed a lucky”— 

“Wait until I am your wife, " she interrupted. 
“You may not think so then. Really, I must go 
now. ” 

“I shall take to you to your room, then. Some 
one might steal my treasure from me on the way, ” 
and linking her arm through his, he led her up 
the dimly lighted hall. 

When they reached her door, he raised her 
hand to his lips, and whispered tenderly: 

“Good night, and may all the holy angels guard 
thee.” 

“Come into my room a moment, dear,” said 
Cad, as she met Bess wandering about the gar¬ 
den after Harwood had gone the next morning. 
“I want to speak to you about the dress you must 
get tomorrow.” 

"The everlasting topic of a woman’s conversa¬ 
tion,” said Joe, throwing down his book and 
getting up from his chair. 

His wife and her friend had commenced an an- 

Behind A Mask 15 



226 


‘BEHIND MASK 


imated discussion, to which he had been listening 
silently for a few moments. 

‘‘I cannot see for the life of me,” he went on, 
“how you can find so much to say. It is one of 
the many inexplainable things in your sex, I pre¬ 
sume, and so you cannot help it, I shall go out.” 

“Good-bye, dear,” said Cad, looking up brightly 
and pausing in her remarks when she noticed him 
about to leave the room. 

“Think it is time,” he replied in a disgusted 
voice, “I have evidently been talking to deaf 
ears. ” 

“What have you been saying? I am sure we 
did not hear you. We were discussing what 
color Bess should—” 

“Goodbye" he interrupted; “that is enough. I 
know you were. I will be back in an hour or 
two." 

“Not before that?" 

“If I said six, it would still be going on, I 
suppose. An revoir, ” and he shut the door be¬ 
hind him. 

“Oh, Cad, is he vexed?” asked Bess anxiously. 

“No, dear, I am positive he is not put out. 
But I confess I don’t know what he was talking 
about; some of his tomfoolery, I suppose. He 
is always up to something of the kind.” 

“He is so nice and kind, and I have learned to 
like and respect him so much,” said Bess warm' 


A StAT) STORY 


227 


ly. “I can’t understand how he can be so differ¬ 
ent from his mother. It is wonderful. Is he 
like his father?” 

“No; not at all.” 

“Cad, would you be displeased if I should ask 
why it is that Mrs. Tearle has treated you so hor¬ 
ribly?” 

“It is a subject I never discuss with any one,” 
Cad replied in a grave tone. “But if I were to 
try to begin to tell you, I should hardly know 
what to say. You have grown very dear to me, 
little one,” patting the soft, white hand which lay 
on the arm of the chair beside her, "and I will 
answer your question as well as I can. When 
Joe and I were married six years ago, he had 
nothing, and I had money; besides, my dear 
father was alive then, and we lived very happily 
together. Mine was a pleasant home,” her eyes 
held a tender remembrance of her girlhood’s 
days. “When we first met, we were nothing 
but boy and girl, and the idea that I should 
ever marry him always struck me as very ridicu¬ 
lous, if perchance any of our friends attempted 
to chaff us. We became inseparable friends, he 
discarding all his boy chums, and I all my girl 
friends. Of course, you can easily see the result 
of such an intimacy. We knew no other inti¬ 
mate society, and we became indispensable to 
each other’s happiness. I had my share of ad- 


228 


'BEHIND *A MASK 


mirers always—I don’t know why. I was ugly 
enough to stop an eight-day clock—” 

"Oh, Cad, don’t,” her friend interjected 
quickly. 

“True, my dear,” smiling at the pained look on 
the girl’s face “It is true; I have looked in the 
best mirrors which were ever constructed, and 
they all tell me the same thing. However, as I 
was saying, I always happened to meet a number 
of men willing to take me about, and some to give 
me their names. I almost accepted once or twice, 
but Joe’s dogged fidelity won the day in the 
end. And finally, I learned that I could not get 
along without him; I had come to love him. 
No one ever dared to imagine that it was ever 
anything but myself he wanted; we had been 
friends so long before we became lovers. And 
he is not the kind of a man one would attribute 
such motives to. We married, and were very, 
very happy. There was but one drawback; there 
always is a dark side to every joy, you know; 
he was insanely jealous and the most stubborn 
dispositioned person I ever knew of. Neverthe¬ 
less, for nearly two years—barring a few jars 
which most married people seem bound to have 
—we were gloriously happy. Now, to return to 
your question. When I first married, Mrs. 
Tearle conceived a most violent regard for 
me, and we were very much together. Then, 


A S*AT) STORY 


229 


without any apparent reason, she suddenly turned 
in her affection and began to dislike me as much 
as she formerly professed to love me. She did 
not stop with herself, but began a systematic 
course of action to influence and prejudice my 
husband in the same way, and in a short time he 
also, when hitherto he had been uniformly kind 
and respectful, was unreasonable and insulting 
in his manners. The tales she must have inven¬ 
ted and poured into his ears would have 
turned the respect of anyone, for I know to my 
cost what stories she can tell, if the spirit so 
prompted her. When we were married they 
buried the hatchet for the time being and attend¬ 
ed the wedding, and all appeared to point to a 
life of peace and amiability, if nothing more. 

"It soon changed. The sky was overcast as 
heavily as before; and then it was that Mrs. 
Tearle made up her mind that she would win 
Joe from my love and from his home. 

"He resisted manfully for a long time. He 
did not heed the hints and insinuations thrown 
out so broadcast about my former associations 
and my present actions. He laughed at her 
taunts about his being tied to my apron strings, 
of my ordering him about, of his not being a 
man, but a mere puppet in my hands, but they 
were all seeds. Some came up, some did not. 
And so, finally, when she had planned what 


23 ° 


‘BEHIND MASK 


should be proof in his eyes of a heinous wrong 
against him, she had moulded his mind so per¬ 
fectly, had insensibly to himself led him up to 
just the desired point; and then—and then—” 
she paused, her eyes looking straight before her 
with a strained, unnatural look in them, her 
hands clinched and her face pale, her form ap¬ 
pearing as if rigid with suppressed emotion, 
which suddenly gave away, and a look of utter 
dispair settled upon her countenance as her form 
and features relaxed their tension. Her chin 
sank slowly upon her bosom. “There is no more 
to tell, dear. She succeeded. For particular 
reasons of my own, I ran away. My father was 
dead. I felt as if I was all alone in the world. 
I came down here. My old nurse lived on a farm 
about fifteen miles from the hotel, and I knew 
I should receive from her what I could get from 
no one else, confidence. I took the name of Mrs. 
Brown, and you know the rest. Had I much to 
tell?” 

“My dear old Cad,” said the girl, with tears in 
her eyes as she sank on her knees and nestled 
her head on her friend’s neck, “my dear old Cad! 
What a sad, sad story. If I had only known you 
then," starting upright and clinching her little 
fist, “I would have—” 

“You could have done nothing, my brave little 
woman. It was'between him and her, between 


A SATO STORY 


231 


his love and faith for the one woman in the 
world to him, and his belief in his mother. She 
conquered then, but I, ” suddenly, her head erect, 
"I will conquer now. I have never retaliated in 
any manner whatever. I shall now. The poor 
forsaken worm has turned at last, and do you 
know, Bess,” with a forced, hard laugh, “I begin 
to feel almost sorry for Mrs. Tearle—truly I do.” 

"I don’t,” said her friend emphatically, “and 
I hope with all my soul you will succeed, and 
that she may receive her just deserts. I never 
dreamed there was so much wickedness in the 
world. I can’t understand how a mother could 
deliberately set to work to rob her child of his 
happiness. She insults the holiest word, the 
most delicate, precious, all-absorbing, self- 
sacrificing creation of God, a mother; and He 
will punish her in some way, in her home ties, 
in her ambitions, in something inexpressibly 
dear to her, I am sure He will.” 

“You are right Bess. I shall not attmept to 
avenge myself—only my honor. I shall leave the 
rest to the one who saith, ‘Vengeance is mine’, 
and if it is right that it should fall, it will.” 

“You are a noble woman, Cad, and just such a 
one as I know my own dear Mamma would have 
chosen as a best friend for me. I am so glad 
you love me, for I shall always love you with 
all my heart.” 


232 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“You shall have a mother’s care from me 
darling. My experience has made me old enough 
to give you that; and if you ever need anything, 
either love, confidence, advice, or—or money,” 
she finished quickly, “come to me, and I shall 
give you the best that is in my heart. ” 

“Oh, Cad!” 

“But there, we have been solemn long enough, 
don’t you think? and discussed my melancholy 
self to a sufficient extent. Suppose we turn to 
something lighter once more, and decide what 
color you get your goods." 

“Don’t you think blue would be nice, Cad?” 

“Yes, I think light—” 

“Good-bye," cried a voice suddenly, and the 
door opened and shut again. 

“Come in," Cad called. “Oh, Joe, was it you?" 

“Yes, it is I,” stalking into the room, “but I 
am not going to stay, thank you. Once I heard 
a story about a famous choir of a church in Bos¬ 
ton that just fits you two.” 

“Tell it to us," said Bess. 

“I intend to: An old country fellow once 
strolled into one of our fashionable places of 
worship and sat him down to listen. The choir 
arose to sing, and the piece selected was, ‘Con¬ 
sider the Lilies,’etc. It went all right until 
they got to ‘Solomon is not arrayed,’ when the ten¬ 
or took it up and said, ‘Solomon,’ then the soprano 


A SAD STO^Y 


*33 


caught up with his note, and the bass rang in 
with ‘arrayed.’ They kept this up for some 
time, until the old hay-seed got tired, arose and 
went out for a long walk, rode a mile or two in the 
horse cars,strolled in the park and so forth; and 
finally, when pretty well worn out with his sight¬ 
seeing, he wandered back to the church and as¬ 
cended the broad stone steps. He reached the 
swinging doors and softly pushed them open, 
when a grand crash on the organ and the voices 
pealed forth, in chorus, ‘and Solomon is not ar¬ 
rayed.’ It was too much for his patience to 
stand. He walked slowly down the aisle, com¬ 
manded silence by a majestic sweep of his arm, 
and said in a ringing voice: ‘Naow dew tell; 
haint you folks got that man dressed yet? ’Pears 
to me it takes a powerful lot o’ time to get his 
clothes on. But I be goin’ back to Jerrytown 
naow, and I had my mind sot on a hearin’ of 
your fine parson, who I have heard tell of sight 
o’ times, and can I make so peart like as to ask 
if one of you folks,’ directly addressing the choir, 
‘would mind the droppin’ o’ a letter to Nathaniel 
Greenberry, Jerrytown, Massachusetts. That’ll 
get me sure—when you have got that feller you 
be talkin’ about pretty near all arrayed, then I 
will take the next train and get here by the 
time the parson’s ready to begin. I will be 
obliged to you, ladies and gentlemen,’ and turn- 


234 


e BEHIND *A MASK 


ing on his heel, he walked slowly out. So,” as 
he passed stiffly towards the door, “and disap¬ 
peared so,” and the door shut behind him. 

“Oh, Joe," Cad cried as he disappeared. 

“Eh,” opening the door just a crack. 

“I know now where you have been the last two 
Jaours. Make your discovery public, dear. It 
will give us everlasting fame and fortune." 

“What discovery?” echoed from the hall. 

“The ark.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why, that you must certainly have discovered 
the final resting place of Noah’s old ark 
and been searching among its ancient archives 
for some long hidden, almost forgotten tales, 
to—” 

“Good-bye, '' he cried sharply, and with a click 
of the latch, his step was heard receding rapidly 
down the hall, while his clear mellow laugh 
came ringing to their ears. 

“The wretch,” said Cad finally, “to make us 
listen to such a worn out old yarn as that." 

“I never heard it before,” said Bess, “and I 
suppose he must have applied it to us in some 
way. ” 

“He did, of course. I guessed immediately 
what he meant. We were talking dress when he 
went out—” 




A SAT) STORY 


235 

"And had just begun again when he came 
in,” finished Bess, laughing. 

"Let us go and hunt him up,” proposed Cad, 
"he will not appear again for an hour after that.” 

The week, during the absence of Harwood, 
Bess, Mrs. Tubbs and a number of others, 
dragged slowly by. The preparations for the 
ball advanced steadily towards the end. Mr. 
Hill fulfilled his promises and spared neither 
labor nor expense in his attempt to make the 
affair a success. Mrs. Tearle and her compan¬ 
ions followed the example of the others and 
spent three or four days in Boston, returning, 
however, two days ahead of them. 

• She was bland and smiling, with a pleasant 
word for every one she met, and displayed such 
an interest in the affair on hand, that she quite 
won the hearts of all with whom she came in 
contact. Her deportment towards Cad was per¬ 
fect, such kind little nods and smiles, such con¬ 
fidential little chats which Cad could not retreat 
from, but which filled her heart with disgust, 
such flattering little remarks in regard to her 
good taste when she made any suggestion to-, 
ward decorations and so forth, that those who 
saw, wondered, and then decided that Mrs. Tearle 
must have changed her mind in regard to her 
daughter-in-law, and that "really, perhaps, there 
was nothing at all in the tales they had heard 


236 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


concerning poor little Mrs. Tearle, and that they 
had always thought there was no truth in it any¬ 
way. ” 

Alas for the inconsistencies of human nature; 
alas for the damage often done by a free and 
spiteful tongue. God forgive each and all who 
have ever lifted a voice towards the ruin of a 
woman’s honor. Are there not too many who 
stand in sore need of such mercy from the Divine 
hand? 

Joe and his wife had spent their days very 
closely together, in fact, Cad had been so much 
in his company that she had found only one op¬ 
portunity of visiting her little Bernice during 
the whole time, and her heart ached with the 
enforced absence. Poor Cad; she had tried so 
hard to love her husband as she had done before, 
but it would not come. He was so kind and 
patient—tried by all the little attentions his 
mind could fancy to win her back to him, but 
it cut her to the quick. She liked him; she 
could be with him as she could with no one 
else, but the zest had gone entirely. 

“We are simply like other married people, 
dear. Do not let it worry you,” he said to her 
one day. 

“Yes, but the ordinary married life I detest 
and abhor,” she answered with spirit. “Such 


A SzAD STORY 


237 


placid, every-day affections, are an insult to the 
name of wife.” 

"But men seem to get along pretty well who 
lead them.” 

"Do they? Then it is because they do not 
know, so do not feel, the lack of it in their 
lives. They fill the void, but with other things 
—sports, drinking, dinners, clubs, races, and 
what not. Whereas, if they had ever loved 
truly, and the wife had kept it warm and ever 
present in his heart, she would be what she had 
expected—his companion, his comrade—not sim¬ 
ply the mother of his children, to whom a prop¬ 
er amount of deference and respect should be 
paid as such. He might have his sports, if his 
disposition demanded it, but he should certain¬ 
ly see to it, that her hours were to be full of 
pleasures while his were; and not to leave her 
to loneliness. He should always be lover 
enough to know her heart and feel when any¬ 
thing he did grieved or pained her; then do his 
best to wipe it away. In fact, I must be your 
wife, Joe—I simply cannot, will not be your 
friend. ” 

"Do you suppose I do not know that as well 
as you?” he responded with sudden passion. 
“Do you suppose I do not feel that this life we 
are leading together is a hell—a hell on earth? 
You know how I feel, Cad—my love burns as 


2 3 8 


‘BEHIND <vf MASK 


fiercely as when first I wooed you for mine. 
My heart thrills as readily with a glance from 
your eyes, as it did in days gone by. Oh, Cad, 
have mercy," he groaned aloud. "I love you so, 
I would lay down my life to serve you, to feel 
just once the answering pressure of your lips, 
aye, even of your fingers. With some women, 
I might be content; with you, having once 
known the glory of your love, I can’t, I can’t. 
You must return it. I will make you,” he cried, 
suddenly clasping her in his arms. "Oh, God, 
it is impossible. Perhaps you never will again, ” 
he exclaimed, starting back from the passive 
figure before him. "What should I do? Tell me, 
do you think it possible that I may never wake 
your heart again? You do, then. Nay, do not 
speak. I see the answer in your face. Oh, my 
wife, my wife!" and he sank down before her, 
bent his head upon his breast, weeping tears of 
scalding bitterness, which her gentle pleading 
only aggravated the more. 

It was on the very day of the ball, that a 
scene similar to the one described, occurred, 
and the poor wife, the heart-sick husband, in 
vain endeavored to present to each other, and to 
their friends, a manner and face befitting the 
gay occasion; but their souls were full of pain, 
sorrow and depression. 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE GAME ENDED 

“Now this is an auspicious occasion, Bess,” 
said Harwood, as they promenaded the large 
hall, “one eminently befitting our betrothal. 
When shall the next occasion come off?” 

“Oh, Harry, you shouldn't say such things; 
especially here," she added with a naivete 
which made him laugh. 

“But seriously, my darling, I do long so sad¬ 
ly for a home. I have had none for so long; 
and then, again, I want you to help me to put a 
poor fellow straight who has been going crooked 
for some time. We can only do it with home 
influence. I speak in enigmas now, but it shall 
be fully explained to you tomorrow. I want to 
plant my little seed tonight, so that you may 
think well over it, and when the circumstances 
are laid before you, you will be able to give a 
ready answer.” 

“I will ask Cad, Harry, she knows best about 
those things, and can direct me as I should 

II 

“Ask her by all means, sweetheart. She will 
never guide you wrong. ” 

239 


£ BEHIND *A MASK 


240 

“Poor, dear Cad. Have you noticed how 
dreadfully excited she looked tonight when she 
entered the hall? Her eyes were like balls of 
fire. Here she comes now. Oh, what can be 
the matter? Look at her face. She is hunting 
for some one, perhaps it is you. Yes, it is.” 

“Harry,” cried Cad, in an agitated, trembling 
voice, as she advanced quickly to meet them, 
“Bernice has been stolen.” 

“What!” he exclaimed, starting back in aston¬ 
ishment. “How do you know?” 

“Sarah has just come up to the hotel and tells 
me she has been gone for five or six hours.” 

“Come with me, dear, into the library, where 
we may talk quietly. Yes, Bess, you too. 
You need not listen. Come, tell me all you 
know, Cad; and calm yourself, my friend. No 
harm shall come to her. In fact, I see now what 
it all means. It is only happening sooner than 
I expected. What does Sarah say?" 

The poor mothers attempt at self-control was 
heart-rending to behold, as she related briefly 
the story of her little one’s disappearance. The 
child had been with her nurse the entire day, 
up to two o’clock in the afternoon. At that time 
they were in the garden, and Jim the gardener 
was at work some little distance from them. 

Sarah being called into the house to attend 
to some errand, the child requested permission 


THE GAME ENDED 


241 


to remain and play about the yard in company 
with the man, and so Sarah departed. In the 
course of an hour or two, the little one not 
appearing, she went out into the garden to 
search for her. To her surprise, she was not to 
be seen; and with an apprehension of, she knew 
not what, slowly gathering in her mind, she 
hastened in search of the man. What then was her 
horror to find that Jim had not seen the child 
since she had been with her the first of the after¬ 
noon. Calling the rest of the women servants, 
the men and her husband, they instituted a hasty 
search, which soon extended beyond the limits 
of the farm. Not a trace could be discovered, 
and it was with a heavy heart that the poor wo¬ 
man had ridden to the hotel to acquaint the 
mother of the sad news. 

Harwood listened very closely and atten¬ 
tively his brows drawn in thought, as Cad, with 
trembling lips and shaking hands poured out the 
short story; and then stood looking into his 
eyes with such a beseeching expression in her 
own, such a look of dumb, speechless sorrow 
written on her countenance, that Bess, who 
stood near by, could no longer resist the in¬ 
clination, and moved quickly to her side, pass¬ 
ing her arm about her friend’s waist, her own 
eyes filled with sympathetic tears. But Cad 
Behind A Mask lb 


2t\ 2 


c BEHIND *A MASK 


did not seem to notice her, her whole soul being 
fixed on Harwood’s answer; and she waited anx¬ 
iously for him to speak. Rousing himself from 
his momentary abstraction, he said impres¬ 
sively: 

“Cad, it is necessary that you should put up 
with your anxiety for a short time. We can 
do nothing now. It will not be for long, my 
dear; do not look so broken-hearted; and after¬ 
ward, you understand,” he said meaningly, "we 
will find Bernice.” 

“But Harry, I cannot stand this strain. I 
must and her, I cannot wait.” 

“It is positively necessary, Cad,” he repeated 
gravely. 

“Nothing is necessary where her safety is con¬ 
cerned. Oh, Harry, you don’t, you can’t com¬ 
prehend. ” 

“My dear little woman, I do comprehend,” he 
answered, kindly. “But it only remains for you 
now to take your choice. Which will you choose, 
your vindicated honor, or the momentary safety 
of your child? I tell you on my honor, she shall 
be found. I will promise you that. I know that 
we are to succeed, but if you oblige us to spread 
the tale of her disappearance about, if you so 
expose yourself at this point, oh, Cad, what 
a result. You will be crushed forever." 


THE GAME ENDED 


243 


“But my child,” moaned the poor creature 
sinking into a chair. 

“And then your child will be stigmatized by a 
name I cannot speak to you. Your ruin is hers.” 

“You have succeeded, Harry,” she said finally, 
after along silence, during which she had buried 
her face in her hands and had remained perfectly 
motionless. “I will do just as you say,” raising 
her pale determined looking face. “What do 
you propose?” 

“Act as if nothing had happened. Keep your¬ 
self under your usual perfect control, and I 
promise you all will yet be well. Here is your 
husband now, dear, coming in search of you. 
Remember what depends on your firmness.” 

“Where have you been, Cad?” said her husband 
as he joined them. “I have been looking for you 
everywhere. Come, I want you to dance with me. ” 

“Yes, Joe,” taking his proffered arm and look¬ 
ing into his face with a feeble smile, “I feel 
just like a waltz. So strange, but I do. And 
you, Bess, and Harry, had better join us. You are 
losing the best of the ball.” 

“What a jolly looking party you are,” said 
Mrs. Tearle, as she passed them in the hall on 
the arm of a strange escort, “why, and, my dear, 
you look as pretty as a pink tonight. What have 
you been doing to yourself?” 


244 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“I do hope I have not been changing in my 
looks,” she answered, with a well assumed ex¬ 
pression of fear gathering upon her face. "I 
should surely lose all my attractions, if I 
changed any. I remember I overheard a gentle¬ 
man say once, ‘by Jove, she is like my terrier, 
she is so deucedly ugly she is handsome, don’t 
you know.’ It would be awful if I should grow 
good looking. Heaven forbid.” 

“You will never lose your wit, at any rate,” 
cried Mrs. Tearle, laughing immoderately at 
the little story, and then with a wave of her 
hand, she proceeded on her way. 

‘‘Do you remember the gentleman, Harry?” 
Cad asked, looking over her shoulder. 

“You are unkind, Mrs. B.” he said reproach¬ 
fully, ‘‘but I thank Heaven it was not I—I was 
only the listener." 

‘‘You should not have listened to such a 
thing,” exclaimed Bes§, indignantly. ‘‘I never 
thought it of you." 

“That is right, scold him, Bess,” and she 
smiled back at them again. “He deserves it.” 

“You do not feel much like dancing, after all; 
do you, Cad?” said Joe, coming to a walk. “You 
must have been mistaken. Can you forgive me, 
dear, for making you feel so badly tonight?” 

“You have done nothing, Joe.” 

“Yes, but I have," he went on hurriedly, “step 


THE GAME ENDED 


*45 


out here on the porch a moment. I have made 
up my mind to say something to you, and 
it won’t wait.” 

“Well, Joe?” standing before him, her head 
down and her hands loosely clasped before her. 

“I am becoming convinced that this continual 
pull on you is too much for you. You fright¬ 
ened me tonight with your pale face and hope¬ 
less-looking eyes, when I found you in the libra¬ 
ry trying to be happy with your two friends. It 
cannot go on, dear, and I am a brute to expect 
you to continue as we have been doing any long¬ 
er. It is only what I deserve. I am a man and 
more fit to bear such burdens than you.” 

"I will not listen any longer,” she interrupted 
quickly. ‘‘No; do not say anything more. 
When I can no longer bear up under it, I prom¬ 
ise you I will tell you, and we can separate again. 
But until that time comes, please me, dear, and 
do not mention it again.” 

“But, oh, Cad, I feel such a brute.” 

‘‘Do you? I don’t think you are. Let us go 
in. We are not very gay company, are we?” 

“Oh, Mrs. Brown,” began Devine, as he met 
them at the door. 

“Brown-Tearle, you mean,” she finished, laugh¬ 
ing at his ready blush. 

‘‘I can’t help it sometimes,” he exclaimed. 
“But won’t you come and meet my sisters? I 


246 


‘BEHIND MASK 


have been promising to present them to you ever 
since they arrived tonight, but I have not been 
able to find you before.” 

“And you have been so busy, too,” she replied. 
“Fiancees are so exacting, especially at parties. 
However, I shall be much pleased to meet your 
sisters. Where are they?” 

“This way. Come.” 

The hours rolled quickly by. The ball was 
almost at its height. Each and all of the com¬ 
pany seemed imbued with the spirit of the fes¬ 
tive occasion. To the two—Harwood and his 
betrothed—who knew the awful worrying, anx¬ 
iously beating heart, which she carried in her 
bosom, Cad was a perfect wonder. She was the 
life of her party. No wit so quick as hers, no 
humor so inspiring. They could scarcely be¬ 
lieve their eyes or their ears, and wondered in 
a vague manner if perhaps they were not mis¬ 
taken. But one of them all, who listened to her 
gay sallies, heard the false ring in her laugh, 
detected the pained, hunted expression in her 
eyes, and vowed again and again to himself, that 
he was a brute to put her to such reckless ex¬ 
tremities. 

They stood in a knot together, Cad, Joe, Har¬ 
wood, Bess, the Devines, and a number of oth¬ 
ers, when Mr. Moore approached with his usual 
bland smile and said: 


THE GAME ENDED 


24? 


"I am sorry to interrupt—I am, upon my honor 
—but Joe, my boy, your mother sent me with a 
request that you and your wife would come to 
her for a few moments.” 

"Where is she?” asked Joe. 

"In the little card room at the end of the hall. 
She asked if you will please not delay.” 

"Certainly not. Come, dear, lead the way, 
Moore; we will follow you.” 

"Here you are,” he exclaimed, then turned 
and walked abruptly away, leaving them alone. 

"Take a chair,” said his mother, as they en¬ 
tered a little room at the further end of a long 
corridor, which was almost cut off from the rest 
of the house. 

"You seem excited, mother," said Joe, as soon 
as his eyes rested upon Mrs. Tearle’s face, which 
was flushed and agitated. 

"I am,” she replied sharply, "and I am sure it 
is enough to make me so.” 

"What troubles you? Why did you send for 
us? Can we help you in any way?” 

"You can, ” she replied. 

"I can?” he repeated, a shadow flitting over 
his face. "Expain yourself." 

"In the first place, Joe, you must promise to hear 
what I have to say without losing your temper.” 

"I will make no such promise,” he began 
quickly. 


2 4 S "BEHIND *A MASK 

“To please me, do so,” said Cad, who sat be¬ 
side him. 

“Very well, I consent. Now end this affair 
by being quick about it. I will say nothing. 
Go on.” 

“Years ago, when you met Cad Thornton—” 

“You shall not discuss my wife in my pres¬ 
ence,” he interrupted, “you may as well stop 
where you are.” 

“I suspect, Joe, what it is your mother is go¬ 
ing to tell you,” interposed Cad ,slowly, “and I 
wish sincerely for you to listen to what she has 
to say. It is the truth. When she has finished, it 
is for you to decide whether I am worth your 
love or not.” 

“You speak in foolish riddles, Cad,” he said 
impatiently, “but since you so much desire it, 
go on, mother.” 

“I am glad you are at least honest," said Mrs. 
Tearle, addressing Cad. “As I was about to 
say, years ago I warned you against this woman. 
I told you she was immoral; I told you she was 
untrue to you. You would not believe me. You 
were under some spell which turned you into a 
perfect slave to her every caprice. Then, by 
the aid of fortunate circumstances, I proved it to 
you—proved unquestionably her infidelity. You 
saw yourself, when* you returned unexpectedly 
home from a journey, a man disappearing from 


THE GAME ENDED 


249 


your wife’s window. I had surprised them in 
their room, and you came upon the scene just at 
that moment. And to add to this, you read a 
number of letters which you and I together found 
secreted in a drawer. These were proof conclus¬ 
ive. When you would have turned on her in 
righteous anger, she had added one more link to 
the chain of her guilt and fled. For years we 
have neither seen nor heard of her, until we 
found her this summer masquerading under the 
name of Mrs. Brown. She saved your life, for 
which you were grateful. And then, by her pe¬ 
culiar power, which she exerted to the utmost, 
she won you back under her control, and you 
acknowledged her as your wife.” She paused. 

"You are right in the main points,” he said 
slowly, "For what reason have you rehearsed 
this miserable tale?” 

"I will show ypu. You cannot deny, either of 
you, that since your re-union I have.been as kind 
as it was possible, and in truth, I have been 
endeavoring with all my strength to learn to 
like her. But there has always been a side to 
her nature which has insensibly repelled me. 
I could not forget, though I tried hard to forgive. 
Yet there was always a something, and only to¬ 
night, have I found it out. I have discovered 
the reason of this repulsion, and I feel that it 
is my solemn duty to acquaint you with what I 


"BEHIND *A MASK 


250 

have learned. It is right you should know it. '* 

"Go on,” he said quickly, as she paused again. 
"But, stay—I—” 

"Hear your mother through, please,” said his 
wife’s quiet voice, "and remember what I said 
before. I believe that now she is going to tell 
you what is the absolute truth.” 

“Very well," he replied, "it shall be as you 
say, although I would much prefer not to hear it. ” 

"It is just that you should,” said Cad impress¬ 
ively. "Proceed, Mrs. Tearle." 

"How long have you and your wife been separ¬ 
ated?” 

"Four years in May,” she replied. 

"Yes.” 

"How far back do those letters date?” 

"I have no recollection," he answered sullenly, 
a dogged look of obstinacy deepening on his 
face. 

"Here is one,” said Mrs. Tearle, opening a 
package which she held in her hand, and picking 
out a letter from a bundle tied together. "You 
will see this one is dated a year previous to your 
separation. ” 

"Well?” 

"And this one a month before, and this only a 
week. ” She had arisen from her seat and opened 
them separately; holding up each one before him 
as she spoke. 


THE GAME ENDED 


“I have, through peculiar circumstances, met 
the writer of these letters tonight. His name is 
Will Douglas.” 

“Oh, is he here?” cried Cad, starting forward. 

“Sit still, Cad,” exclaimed Tearle. 

“Then what he says is true,” continued his 
mother. “I confess I hardly dared to believe him. ” 

“And you say this man is here," said Joe, his 
face grown strangely white. 

“Yes, he is here, and he comes in search of 
you, Cad Thornton,” Mrs. Tearle went on relent¬ 
lessly, regardless of the two pained faces before 
her, “of you, for whom he has been searching 
ever since the hour you deserted him also, and 
took from him—” she paused," his child.” 

“His what?” exclaimed Joe, his eyes like 
coals and his bosom heaving, but clenching his 
hands, he succeeded in keeping himself under 
command, and said quietly this time, “Repeat, 
please, I did not understand you.” 

“I said his child,” said the cruel tone. “She is 
the mother of a little girl. Mr. Douglas, will you 
come in here?” she arose and opened the door. 

"Yes, madame," and a tall, handsome, but dis¬ 
sipated looking man entered the room. 

“It is he,” cried Cad, shrinking back and then 
covering her eyes with her hands, as if to shut 
his face from view. 


252 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“Yes, it is I,” he answered, taking a step to¬ 
wards her. 

“Remain where you are, sir,” commanded Joe, 
who had arisen at his entrance and who now 
placed himself between the stranger and his 
wife 

“My mother tells me,” he continued after a 
short silence, “that this lady is the mother of 
your child. Is this so?" 

“Yes, sir, it is the truth. ' 

“How can you prove this charge?" 

“By the child,” replied Douglas calmly. 

“Have—you the child with you?” He leaned 
heavily on the back of his chair, and his voice 
sounded choked and forced. 

“Yes, I will get her; ” and he left the room. 

The three figures stood motionless. Suddenly 
the door re-opened, and a lovely golden haired 
child stood upon the threshold. 

“Stand aside, Mr. Tearle," said Mr. Douglas, 
“she cannot see.” 

“Mamma!" shrieked the little one—Joe had 
moved slightly—“Mamma!” and she was hidden 
in Cad’s arms. 

“My preicious, my darling!" murmured the 
young mother fondly, bending on one knee and 
pressing the child to her bosom as she rained 
kisses on her face and hair. 

Involuntarily, they turned to watch the meet- 


THE GAME ENDED 


2 53 


ing, and unnoticed, Mr. Moore and Mrs. Stone 
entered and stood behind them; and then another 
silent figure was added to the group. 

“Cad,” cried her husband, breaking the silence, 
“is this your child?” 

“Certainly I belong to Mamma,” said the little 
one promptly, as Cad replied by a mute shake of 
her head. 

“And you?” he turned to Douglas. 

“I claim the child as mine also.” 

“You lie, you villain,” cried Joe suddenly, 
“the child is not yours.” 

“I deny the charge, and reassert most emphat¬ 
ically that she is.” 

“Oh, you infernal set of thieves and maligners," 
Joe burst forth suddenly. 

He stood beside his kneeling wife, his control 
gone to the winds. The veins in his forehead 
stood out in little knots. His teeth hard set, 
his hands opened and shut convulsively. 

“Do you know the woman you accuse? Shut 
that door and come in here, all of you, that you 
may hear me. You are at the bottom of this 
plot, Albert Moore. I can see your hand very 
plainly. I do not believe you. You could not 
convince me. A truer, nobler woman never lived 
or breathed than my wife—my wife, do you hear? 
And woe to the man who ever breathes her name 
again. My confidence in her is absolute. I tell 


254 


"BEHIND *A MASK 


you I would not believe my own eyes, and final¬ 
ly, I claim the child as mine. Bernice,” his 
voice softening, “do you know me?” 

“Yes, sir," she said sweetly, “you are Mr. 
Tearle. ” 

“Who is that man?” 

“I do not know, sir.” 

“Will you go and kiss that gentleman?” 

“Oh, no, please,” and she shrank back with a 
shudder. 

“Will you kiss me?" 

“If you please, sir,” and starting forward, she 
jumped into his arms. 

“Joe,” exclaimed Cad. 

“Be still, my dear. You must have understood 
why it was that my heart spoke to me so long 
ago when first I took this little one in my arms.” 

“You believe in me then, in the face of this 
damning evidence?” 

“I do wholly and sincerely," he returned earn¬ 
estly. 

She dropped her eyes and stepped back from 
his side. 

“The farce is ended, then," said Douglas, turn¬ 
ing to Moore. “I thought you couldn’t make it 
work. ” 

“What do you mean?” cried Joe, darting to¬ 
wards them. 

“That it was all a—" 


THE GAME ENDED 


255 


"Stop,” commanded Moore. ‘‘I forbid you to 
go on.” 

"Your day for forbidding me is over, Mr. 
Moore. I am my own master at last. Nearly 
five years ago I met this man,” he commenced, 
turning to face Joe. "Then I was young and 
thoughtless, just started on the wrong path, in 
which he ably assisted me. He taught me all 
the sins of the world. He weaned me almost 
entirely from the affection of my only brother. 
And, finally, when stupid with drink, caused 
me to forge his name to an ‘I. O. U.,’ a gam¬ 
bling debt, and from that time he has held it 
over my head. I lost the respect of the girl 
who had promised to marry me. I entered the 
room of this lady and jumped from the window 
at a signal given by Mrs. Tearle, who had made 
all the arrangements with me previous to the 
affair. And, finally, on condition that I would 
come down here and swear to it, that I was the 
father of your child, for I know she is yours, he 
yielded me up the fatal paper. I have fulfilled 
my contract honestly, but thanks for your su¬ 
preme love for your wife, he has not succeeded.” 

“But the letters?” Cad exclaimed involuntar¬ 
ily. 

"He stole those from me, Mrs. Tearle. They 
were addressed to my own sweetheart, whose 
name like yours was Carrie.” 


256 


‘BEHIND *A MASK 


“And that is not all, Mr. Moore,” said Har¬ 
wood, stepping forward. “You will answer to 
me now for the manner in which you have swin¬ 
dled Mrs. Bolton. I am aware that you have 
bonds and securities which you invariably carry 
about with you. Turn me over paper to cover 
the full fifty thousand dollars, and I will say 
nothing more.” 

“I will not,” hissed Moore, backing against the 
wall, as Harwood advanced toward him. 

Yes, you will,” he replied determinedly. 
“If you refuse, I will send you to states prison 
for embezzlement.” 

“You can’t prove it,” he stammered. 

“Yes, I can. I have here the affidavits of two of 
your creditors, John Walsh and Peter Cunning¬ 
ham, to the effect that they have never released 
you from a single debt which they held 
against the firm of A. Moore and Company. 
Consequently, you must have forged their names. 
My brother here—” 

“Your brother,” shrieked Mrs. Tearle. 

“My brother, William Harwood, otherwise 
Douglas, has been the means of putting me fur¬ 
ther in possession of certain papers, which prove 
conclusively that you deliberately defrauded, 
swindled and embezzled the sum of fifty thou¬ 
sand dollars from Mrs. Wm. Bolton. Turn me 


THE GAME ENDED 


257 


over that amount, I will not prosecute; refuse, 
and you know the consequences. ” 

“Yes, by Jove, you shall,” said Joe, joining in 
the conversation for the first time. “Here, sit 
down at this table,” pulling over a chair. 
“Now, out with your pocket-book, you unmiti¬ 
gated scoundrel, to rob a poor widow of her all 
and put her on the charity of a few good friends 
in order to obtain the bare necessities of life; 
when you were living on the best in the land. 
I could thrash you soundly with all my heart. 
Out with that pocket-book, ” he thundered, grasp¬ 
ing his shoulders, "or by gad, Pll do it anyway.” 

“It is robbery,” whined Moore, the tears be¬ 
ginning to roll down his cheeks. 

“Robbery?” said Harwood. “Yes, it decided¬ 
ly was robbery. ” 

“It is all I have in the world,” he whimpered, 
as he reluctantly handed over a pile of bonds, 
which he counted with trembling fingers. 

“That is right,” said Harwood, as he pocketed 
them. “Now I have one more thing to say to 
you, and it is particularly good advice. Leave the 
country by tomorrow night, sure. If you don’t, 
I and the two gentlemen I have mentioned, who 
are coming here, will bring you up for trial. 
That is, if we can catch you. Come, Will, 
our work is finished. Let us go,” 

Behind A Mask iy 


258 


"BEHIND *A MASK 


"But I wish to say a word to Mrs. Tearle, 
commenced the young man, stepping toward 
Cad. 

“Some other time, my boy," he interrupted, tak¬ 
ing him by the arm. “Come away now." 

“Mother,” exclaimed Joe, as they left the room, 
“you did this to me?" His voice was full of re¬ 
proach. “I can hardly believe it possible.” 

“I shall say nothing now. I might speak what 
afterward I should regret. Come Cad-" and he 
lifted the child in his arms. 

' So there is the end of your coup de grace , as 
you call it,” snapped Mrs. Tearle as she closed 
the door again. 

“Oh, Ella, Ella, what shall I do?” groaned 
the miserable wretch, lifting his head from the 
table. 

“I don’t know anything left but a trip to Can¬ 
ada; ” she smiled sarcastically—“a coup de grace, 
indeed." 

“An avenging Nemesis," said Mrs. Stone sol¬ 
emnly. “I told you it would surely come.” 

“Well, it has. Are you satisfied?” asked her 
friend tartly. 

“I must go and prepare for my departure,” said 
Moore, rising slowly from his chair. 

“And we must return to the ball, and be happy 
and gay," put in Mrs. Tearle grimly. “Come, 
Jennie, and mark my words, in the future, we 


THE GzAME ENDED 


2 59 


must be polite, perfectly respectful to that dear 
little saint, to our own precious little friend, 
Mrs. Joe Tearle. 

“Bess, my darling,” said Harwood, as he bent 
over his sweetheart’s chair, "comg into the other 
room with me for just a moment. I have such 
good news for you.” 

“It is about Cad,” she cried immediately. “Oh, 
I know it must be, you look so happy.’ 

“Yes, it is about Cad,” his eyes sparkling with 
pleasure; “and myself too,” he added, “for the 
bar has at last been entirely removed, and noth¬ 
ing prevents me drinking to the full of my un¬ 
speakable bliss.” 

“Dear Harry,” she murmured softy, rubbing 
her cheek against his arm, “You and she have 
succeeded in what you have been doing together. 
I felt that you would. Can you tell me the 
whole story now? I am so anxious to hear it.” 

“How long have you known that we were work¬ 
ing together?” he asked curiously. 

"Ever since the day of the big picnic, when 
you—when you almost—" 

“Confessed my love for you,” he finished with 
a tender smile. “Yes, I remember; but how did 
you find it out?” 

“Cad told me that evening.” 

“Cad told you that evening?” he repeated, half 


260 


‘BEHIND A MASK 


incredulously. “Why, what caused her to do 
such a thing?” 

“I think I did,” she said, laughing confusedly. 

“You did? Would you mind explaining your¬ 
self. I cannot understand Cad’s motive.” 

“It was for me,” she said almost below her 
breath. “I—I—will tell you, Harry, if you will 
turn your head away and promise not to look at 
me.” 

“I promise," laughingly turning his face. 

“It was that night. Cad was tired, and I went 
in to her room to comb her hair for her and she 
teased me about you; and—and—I confessed my 
love for you to her." 

“Well, and then?” said the deep voice. 

“And then I tried to excuse you for being so 
attentive to Mrs. Tearle and appearing to dislike 
Cad so much, and for treating her as shamefully 
as you did. I felt hurt to think that you and 
she were such poor friends. So, to set my heart 
at rest, she confessed that you were not what you 
appeared, and that you were on the very best terms 
with each other. That was all, excepting that 
you were working for some great end together. 
It was told under the strictest promise of secrecy; 
and, oh, Harry,” suddenly forgetting herself in 
her love for her friend, “you should have heard 
her talk to me, encourage me in my love, which 
»he said she knew was not misplaced. You 


THE GAME ENDED 


261 


should have heard her speak of you, and your 
nobility of character. It was so inspiring. And 
besides that, she went and excused my absence 
to Lucy, so that I might sleep with her and talk 
of you. My mother could not have said more, 
nor treated me more tenderly than Cad did. I 
know that when I am a wife, and endeavoring to 
do a wife’s duty, her beautiful words of love and 
advice will do me so much good, will tend to 
make me so much better—my dear Cad.” 

“Truly, our dear Cad,” he murmured, “and 
you, you, my sweet blossom,” turning quickly 
and clasping her in his arms, “you—you, too, 
love me in the face of evidence seemingly so 
strong against me. My dear little sweetheart, 
how can I thank you?” 

“You promised me you would not look at me," 
she said reprovingly, “and you are.” 

“Not look at you, Bess; how can I help it?” 

“You need not try to,” she cried with sweet, 
sudden passion. “I am not ashamed of it. I 
love you, love you with all my soul. Why should 
you not know it?” 

For an answer to her avowal, he drew her still 
closer in his arms, and laid his lips to the sweet 
ones held so close to his in an embrace so ard¬ 
ent that it thrilled and stirred her being with 
such a swift, new, all-powerful thrill of joy un- 


262 ‘BEHIND *A MzASK 

speakable, that for an instant her sight grew dim 
and her brain dizzy with its intensity. 

“Dear little sweetheart/’ he murmured ten¬ 
derly. 

Disengaging herself from his close embrace, 
with a confusion pretty to see, she said slowly, 
and with downcast eyes: 

“You brought me here to tell me something. 
You have not got on very fast." 

“I confess I have not,” he said smiling, "but what 
can you expect of a fellow when the woman of his 
heart is so bewilderingly sweet and beautiful? do 
you suppose he can keep his thoughts fixed on 
anything else? I can’t. Your bewitching presence 
is too much for me." 

“Shall I go upstairs and let you talk through 
the speaking trumpet to me?” she asked coquet- 
tishly. 

“No, you need not bother. I will endeavor to 
put you out of my mind for an instant." 

“Do something with me, please, and then tell 
me Cad’s story. You must remember what a 
friend, almost a mother, she has been; what love 
and kindness she has showered upon me, and 
then you will understand what a joy her joy will 
be to my heart. 

“I do remembef, darling, and I will tell you 
the miserable story from the beginning, and I 
know you will give the noble woman, who has 


THE G*AME EVADED 263 

been a martyr so long, even more of your love 
than you do now.” 

“God be praised," she whispered fervently, 
when he closed the long account of Cad’s suffer¬ 
ings. “And oh, Harry,” turning suddenly and 
throwing her arms about his neck, “I thank you 
for the good work you have done. She was 
right, you are the truest friend that woman could 
ever have. I am so proud of my husband," 
looking into his face with her own full of joy 
and pride. 

“You overrate me, darling,' he said smiling, 
but with his cheeks tinged with red at the hon^ 
est praise. 

“Harry,” she said with sudden thought, “where 
is your brother? Can’t I see him? Will you 
take me to him? Poor fellow, how very sorry he 
must feel, now that he has discovered all the 
misery which he has caused.” 

“Thoughtful little woman,” and he smoothed 
her curly head with a tender hand, “yes, I want 
you to see him, and want you to try and love 
him, if only for my sake. His repentance is 
sincere.” 

“And it is he for whom you wish to make a 
home life?” 

“Yes, dear.” 

“He shall have all the affection from me which 
he will take,” she said earnestly, “and I prom- 


264 ‘BEHIND *A MASK 

ise you I will do my best to make his life a hap¬ 
py one.” 

“If through you and Cad he can learn to live 
a good one, I know of some one who will try to 
make him happy.” 

“Oh, the Carrie you spoke of. Tell me of her," 
she said eagerly. 

“There is very little to tell, darling. She was 
very patient with him, and bore -with his mis¬ 
doings for a long time; but it was no use, and. 
they were obliged to separate. Yet she loves 
him still, and I know, would come to him quick¬ 
ly if she thought him worthy." 

“Take me to him now,” she said softly. ‘I 
wish to know him.” 

“He is there, dear. Poor boy, what a picture 
of dejection his face is.” 

Harwood had opened the door of his own sit¬ 
ting-room, and they stood on the threshold 
looking at his brother who sat before the fire, 
his head bent on his breast. 

Quietly and swiftly she left Harry’s side and 
approached the quiet figure. He started at the 
sudden apparition before him, and for a long min¬ 
ute they gazed steadily into each others’ eyes. 
Then, stretching out her hand, she said gently: 

“I am Bess. Won’t you please try to like me 
a little?” 


THE GzAzME ENDED 265 

“You are Bess?” he repeated vaguely, looking 
first at her and then towards the open door. 

Harry had stepped out of sight and they were 
alone. 

“Yes,” she nodded. 

“I beg your pardon, ” he said hesitatingly, “but 
who is Bess?” 

“Has he not told you then? No?” as he slow¬ 
ly shook his head. “Then I shall be obliged to 
do so myself. I am to be your sister Bess— 
Harry’s wife, and I want you to love me.” 

“Harry’s wife; my sister!” he exclaimed, ris¬ 
ing to his feet. “Has he told you anything of 
me?” 

“Yes, all,” she replied, looking him full in the 
eyes. 

“And you ask me to like you, knowing—” 

“Knowing that you have very nearly wrecked 
the life of my dearest friend? Yes.” 

“But why?” sinking absently into his seat. 

“Because I love your noble brother, who has 
saved her and you also from such abject misery. 
Because I have seen your face, and I know I 
shall like you, and because, most of all, I can 
sympathize so deeply with you. I, too, have 
neither father nor mother, kith nor kin, to 
love nor care for me. Had I perhaps stopped to 
listen and not heeded a good friend’s kindly 
word, had I perhaps forgot for the moment the 


266 


BEHIND *A (MASK 


teachings of my angel mother, I might not be 
able to offer you a clean hand. I, too, might be 
bitterly repenting the hasty act which was the 
beginning. Oh, my brother, we are to have a 
home, Harry and I; will you not promise me to 
join us and make our little circle complete? 
Will you not try to like me?" 

"Like you," he said brokenly. "I feel ready 
to worship you already, for the sweetest words 
that ever fell on a man’s ear. Will you take 
me to your home and heart—you and my 
brother?" 

"If you will come," she said simply. 

"I am afraid I do not deserve such happiness. 
I have not been a good man, as you know." 

"There never has been but one perfect one,” 
she whispered softly. 

"But angels sometimes visit us, don’t they* 
Will?" said Harwood, coming suddenly forward 
and putting his arm about her waist. 

"Indeed they do," said his brother earnestly, 
"and you have found one, Harry. Keep her." 

"You may rest assured I shall do that," he 
answered smiling, "and I hear you have prom¬ 
ised to help me." 

"Mr. Harwood," said a low, sweet, thrilling 
voice behind them. 

They turned abruptly and found Cad standing 
close beside them. 


THE GzAME ENDED 267 

"Cad,” exclaimed Bess, who was the first to 
find her voice. 

"I came to see you, Mr. Harwood,” advancing 
to the side of Will’s chair. He arose quickly 
and stood silently before her. 

"You doubtless know,” she went on rapidly, 
"that I owe the happiness which has been given 
to me tonight, to your brother’s honest love and 
devotion. I shall never attempt to express my 
feelings towards him. It would be impossible. 
But you—” and she paused for a moment to 
pick her words carefully—"you have been the 
means of wrecking my life.” 

"Oh,” began Bess imploringly, but Harry, 
noting his friend’s face, gently placed his hand 
over his betrothed’s mouth, and she continued: 

"You have been the cause of four years of per¬ 
fect wretchedness, in which I have learned only 
too well the sad lessons of life. I have passed 
through temptation and bitterness even more 
severe than yours has been. Unlike you, I had 
an object in my life, my child, who taught me to 
put perfect faith in my God and His ways, yet 
with all that, I have been to the very brink of 
degradation, and have looked down into an abyss 
of sin, the thought of which turns my soul sick 
with horror. Now,” and her eyes shone, "I have 
conquered. Through one brother I have become 
purged and cleaned. Through the other, made 


268 


‘BEHIND *A MzASK 


divinely, gloriously happy. I thank you both,” 
and she stretched a hand out to each of them. 

In silence and amazement they mechanically 
obeyed her gesture. 

"My whole life’s friendship shall be my thanks 
to you, Harry,” looking first into the kindly 
noble face of her friend, "and I hope sincerely 
you will learn in time to like me also, Will, 
for believe me, I have much to thank you for, 
which I am not at liberty to tell you, but," and 
she gave his hand little cordial shake, "if ever 
you need a friend, come to me. Good night,” 
and before they could speak in reply, she had 
turned and glided swiftly away. 

“And I would have ruined such a Woman’s 
life,” said Will sadly, ‘‘the thought is madness.” 

‘‘Where is Bess?" said a childish voice. "Are 
you Bess?” said Bernice, walking demurely to¬ 
wards her. 

"Bernice!" cried Harwood. 

"Oh, Uncle Harwy; I am so glad to see you 
again,” running swiftly into his arms. 

"Yes, I am Bess,” said the young lady ap¬ 
proaching them. "Oh, Harry, this is Cad’s baby. 
You dear little girl; won’t you please come tc 
me?” 

"Yes, for I do .want to know you so much. 
My mamma says you love her very dearly, and 
that you will be Uncle Harwy’s mamma bye and 


THE G'AME ENDED 


269 


bye, and you know we both love him. Why do 
you laugh?” she said gravely. “It is not funny. 
You are pretty, Bess,” as she examined her crit¬ 
ically. "Mamma said you had such pretty brown 
eyes and crinkely hair. I have wanted to see 
you for a long time.” 

"You dear little thing,” murmured the girl, as 
she hid her blushing face on the child's shoul¬ 
der. 

"Bernice,” said Tearle, coming into the room, 
"I have been looking for you everywhere. You 
should have been in bed long ago." 

"Yes, Mr: Tearle—I mean Papa,” she correct¬ 
ed quickly, as she slipped out of Bess’ arms. 

At that moment, Joe became aware of Will 
Harwood's presence and made a quick step to¬ 
wards him, his face growing suddenly dark. 

"Mamma told me, Papa,” said the childish 
treble, interrupting the storm which seemed 
about to burst over the three anxious faces, "that 
I must kiss Mr. Will Harwood good night Are 
you he?” she asked. 

"Yes,” said Harry softly, "that is he.” 

"Will you forgive me for not kissing you be¬ 
fore, when you asked me to, and kiss me now?” 
raising her face to his. 

He bent down in answer to her request, and 
she put her little arms about his neck, saying in 
an audible whisper: 


270 


BEHIND MASK 


“And she told me to say: ‘God bless you/ 
too.” Then she turned. “Come, Papa, I am 
ready now." 

Joe slowly raised his head, which he had rever¬ 
ently bowed to her words, and stretching forth 
his hand, took that of Harwood in his firm clasp. 

“If it pleases you, sir, we will be friends.” 

“I shall feel proud of the honor, Mr. Tearle,” 
Will said with kindling eyes. “Thank your no¬ 
ble wife for me, sir. She is one woman in a 
thousand. 

“Then it is agreed," said Joe, with a kindly, 
cordial pressure of his fingers. “You are right; 
my wife is one woman in a thousand. You will 
see she will live again in my baby," lifting his 
child in his arms, where the little one nestled 
with touching confidence. “And it only remains 
for me to bow before her superior nature and 
hope that in time you may be as dear a friend 
to us as is your brother. We will see you for a 
final dance. The ball, like the world, goes 
bravely on, even though we drop out, or have 
broken hearts to carry. Mrs. Tearle and myself 
will be down immediately. I think she is with 
the nurse waiting for the little one, for this is a 
most unusual dissipation, I imagine.” 

So saying, he walked rapidly away, bearing 
the child on his shoulder, while whispering sweet 
words of love and endearment in the little ears. 



THE GzAME ENTDETD 


271 

So now, Will,” said Harry, when they were 
once more alone, "thanks to the generous nature 
of our kind friends, there is nothing left for us 
but to enjoy ourselves.” 

"Comedown in the ball-room. There are lots 
of pretty girls there, and I want you to meet 
George’s sweetheart. She will just suit you, I 
know. ” 

"And dance the first waltz with me,” invited 
Bess. 

"If I may? I shall be delighted," his face 
already looking bright and cheerful. "But oh, 
by Jove, Harry, I forgot. I can’t,” and h§ looked 
ruefully down at his clothes, "these wont do, you 
know. ” 

"That is so" said his brother thoughtfully "but 
I remember now, you will find a complete suit 
in my trunk over there. It will just fit you. It 
has become too small for me since I have 
grown heavy. Help yourself to anything you 
like. We will wait for you below.” 

"So, thanks to dear Cad’s forgiving disposition 
the clouds are dispelled, and we can almost 
look forward to a bright future for all of us,” he 
said to Bess as they were on their way back to 
the gay company. 

" I imagine she will wield a great influence 
over your brother as time goes on,” replied his 


272 


‘BEHIN'D A cMzASK 


betrothed, “for I fancy she knows just how to 
go to work about it.” 

“And here she is," said Harwood as they came 
suddenly on Cad, talking to a number of gentle¬ 
men. “How happy she looks? Did you ever see 
such a change in a person's appearance in so short 
a time?” 

“There is the signal for supper,” said Bess. 
“How late they are having it.” 

"Have you seen Joe?” asked Cad, joining 
them. “I want him to take me down." 

“He took Bernice away from my room some 
time ago,” said Harry. 

“What shall I do?” she began. “I do not want 
to go with any of those—Oh, Mr. Hawood, will 
you take me?” She turned suddenly to Will as 
he came silently up behind them. 

“With all my heart,” he replied eagerly, his 
handsome face radiant with gratification. 

“Cad, do you know what you are?” Harry 
whispered bending down close to her ear. 

“No, what?” 

“You are a brick,” he said more forcibly than 
elegantly. 

“Thank you, my heart is nearly that shade." 

“There is Joe now,” she exclaimed as they en¬ 
tered the hall on their return. “Let us go to 
him—I have something to tell him.” 

“I will wait for you here,” said Will Harwood. 


THE GzAME EN^DETD 


273 


They had reached the door through which they 
had seen Tearle pass out on to the porch. 

She quitted his side, and swiftly followed her 
husband; laying a tender hand on his arm, she 
said softly— 

"Joe, what is the trouble? You have been run¬ 
ning away from me all the evening, and I want 
so much to see you and tell you how greatful—" 

"Be still, Cad," he cried hoarsely—the porch 
Was empty, and they were alone. "I do not wish 
your gratitude, now that I know that I can 
never hope for anything else. I am half mad 
with grief and shame. I can't talk to you. Your 
sweet voice sounds like chords from hell in my 
ears. I do not know what I am saying. My 
misery is more than I can bear." He turned, and 
rushed frantically from her presence. 

"Poor darling," she murmured, "poor misguid¬ 
ed boy; but I can afford to wait now,” an 
amused, happy look filling her eyes, "you can 
not stay long away.” 

"He has gone for a stroll,” she said composed¬ 
ly, taking her escort's arm. "By the way, have 
you met my other girl yet?" 

"You mean George’s sweetheart. No. Where 
is she?" 

"Right over there. Come, I will present you 
to her.’ 

Behind A Mash id 


*74 


‘BEHIND zA MASK 


"Bess has just given me a short synopsis of 
your strange life,” said Mrs. Tubbs, drawing 
Cad’s arm down beside her. "My dear girl, I am 
very glad for you.” 

"Thank you, Mrs. Tubbs. It has been a strange 
story. I imagine Joe and I will have to settle 
down in my little country nest awhile until this 
last event sort of blows over as it were ” she 
said with a happy smile. 

"You must tell the whole story to me yourself 
tomorrow, when you have more time. I am very 
anxious to see your baby and hold her in my 
arms. Bess says she is a lovely little creature.” 

"You are a mother yourself, Mrs. Tubbs. What 
can you expect me to reply?” 

"Well I never,” said Lucy emphatically, "would 
some of you mind looking at Mrs. Tearle, senior, 
for a moment. Did you ever see a more amiable, 
contented looking face in your life?" 

"Probably she is already in search of pastures 
new in which to exert her extraordinary talent 
for mischief making,” said Harwood. "I only 
hope for her sake that she will always be treated 
as well as Cad has treated her.” 

"Poor Mrs. Tearle," said Cad quickly. “I 
always feel sorry for the weakest side don’t 
you?” 

"Yes, because the weakest generally means the 


THE GAME ENDED 


275 


most sinful,” said Bess, “and I think everyone 
pities a wrong doer.” 

"Well, I never did and never will be able to 
do anything else but detest that woman," said 
Lucy, energetically. "I never could bring my¬ 
self to forgive her.” 

"I do not believe you could,” said Harwood, 
"you are in too deep sympathy with your 
friends." 

"A waltz again,” said George, stepping forward 
with the first strains of the music. "Mrs. Brown, 
will you dance with me?” 

"Mrs. Brown,” they laughed in chorus. 

"Yes, Mrs. Brown forever,” he said stoutly, "for 
I have always said, and do so now, that Mrs. 
Brown was one of the finest women I ever had 
the good fortune to meat." 

"Poor Mrs. Brown,” said Cad laughing, half 
sorrowfully, as she whirled slowly away on his 


arm. 


CHAPTER IX 


FORGIVEN 

It is long past midnight. The first gray 
streaks of dawn are already showing in the east¬ 
ern horizon, but a man walks slowly up and down 
a chamber of which he is sole occupant. 

His head is bowed, his hands clasped behind 
his back. Misery and dejection are written on 
every feature. In the droop of his shoulders, 
in the convulsive workings of his fingers. 

"Oh, God, have mercy," he groaned aloud. 
"My life is ruined; my happiness gone forever. 
To persecute longer such a woman with my 
love, is a heinous crime; and we might have 
been so happy together but for my blind, un¬ 
reasoning doubts. Oh, my Father, forgive me, 
have pity on me; I believe my heart is breaking.” 

Behind him the curtains are slowly parted, 
and a woman, with bare arms and neck of an 
evening costume, advances softly across the floor. 
She pauses; he continues to the end, then turns. 
With outstretched arms, parted lips, and humid 
eyes, she stands before him. He stops short, iooks 
one long instant at the entrancing vision, with 
a heart-rending cry, throws himself at her feet. 

276 




FORGIVEN 


277 


Gently she clasps her hands about his head, as 
he kneels so before her; and turning up his face, 
gently forces him to meet her gaze. Then slowly 
but surely, he rises to his feet, nearer, yet nearer 
their lips come together; and then— Ah, God! 
It is soul to soul, and heart to heart. 

“My wife, at last!” he murmurs in a trans¬ 
port. 

“My husband!" she whispers, shrinking still 
closer into his embrace. 


THE END 


A LITERARY GEM. 


Mademoiselle de Maupin. 

A ROMANCE OF LOVE AND PASSION. 

BY THEOPHILB O-AUTIERi 


llmo, 418 pages. Paper covers. Illustrated with 16 
Half-tones from the original etchings 
by Toudouze . 


“The golden book of spirit and sense, the Holy Writ of beauty."— 
A. C. Swinburne. 

“ Gautier Is an inimitable model. His manner is so light and true, so 
really creative, his fancy so alert, his taste so happy, his humor ao 
genial, that he makes illusion almost as contagious as laughter."— Mr. 
Henry James. 


“MADEMOISELLE DE MAUPIN." the latest product of the pen of Theo- 
phile Gautier, is considered by the bestcritics of this inimitable French¬ 
man to be his most artistic, witty and audacious work. In writing this 
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“ MADEMOISELLE DE MAUPIN ” is alive with the characteristic vigor 
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The book is a marvel of beauty, both from an artistic as well as a 
typographical standpoint. 


FOR SALE AT ALL BOOK STORES AND NEWS STANDS AND ON ALL 
RAILROAD TRAINS. 


LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. 







By ALPHONSE DAUDET. 


UNABRIDGED TRANSLATION FROM 


THE lODTH FRENCH EDITION 


“ 'Sappho* is, without doubt, Daudet’s masterpiece, and should b« read by every 
lover of the artistic in choice fiction.”— Tribune. 

" The book may, without exaggeration, be described as a glowing picture of Paris¬ 
ian life, with all its diversity of characters, with its bohemian and half-world circles 
that are to be found nowhere else; with all its special immorality, in short, but also 
vrith the touch of poetry that saves it from utter corruption, and with the keen ardstie 
sense that preserves its votaries from absolute degradation .”—Daily Telegraph. 


No book has attained greater popularity in Franc® 
than “Sappho.” Our translation, as published in 

The Pastime Series 

is done by a master hand, preserving all the beauties 
of the original French. 

It should be in the hands of every young man. 


For sale at all book stores and news stands, and on all railroad trains. Be 
sure and ask for LAIRD & LEE’S EDITION, as it is THE 
BEST PUBLISHED, 


LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS, 
CHICAGO. ILLS. 







THE GREAT NEW NOVEL 


THE LOST WITNESS 

OR, THE MYSTERY OF LEAH PAGET. 


By LAWRENCE L LYNCH, 

Author of “Shadowed by Three,” “Dangerous Ground,” 
line Payne,” etc., etc. 


“ Made- 


I2rao, 557 pages. 16 full-page illustrations. Printed on fine book paper, 
from 'arge type; and handsomely bound in paper covers, thread sewed. 


The splendid reputation acquired by Mr. Lynch, whose tascinating 
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his latest work. Leah Paget , the beautiful daughter of a New York mill¬ 
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THE ABOVE BOOK FORMS NO. 1 OF 

The Library of Choice Fiction. 

FOR SALE BY ALL BOOKSELLERS AND NEWSDEALERS. AND 
ON ALL RAILROAD TRAINS. 


UIRD & LEE, Publishers. CHICAGO ILL 







Poetic Jewels 


The Atheneum Collection of the World’s Choicest Poetry. 

The Sweetest and the Best of 

Victor Hugo, Schiller, Shakespeare, Milton, Moors, Byron, Burns, Browning, 
Buchanan, Scott, Shelley, Wordsworth, Thackeray, Hemans, Lovell, Long* 
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remain with the heart forever. 


The entire collection has been carefully selected and arranged by 
Mr. E. T. Roe, formerly editor of the Athenaeum, after counseling with the 
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trated with 23 full-page engravings, and is bound in extra silk cloth, full 
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A special feature of the collection is an autograph letter from Wil¬ 
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The poems of Longfellow and some of those of other eminent 
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Many of the poems contained in POETIC JEWELS cannot be had 
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‘‘The editor is a man of taste and erudition, and culls from standard 
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great merit not generally known except in the literary world.’ 

—The Christian Statesman. 

"Permit me to say that I consider your selections better than any I 
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Principal of Amsterdam (N. Y.) Academy . 


This beautiful volume with full gilt edges will be sent to any address, 
postpaid, on receipt of $1.50. 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, CHICAGO. ILL, 









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